


Quantum Leap: The "Lost" Episode

by diandrahollman



Category: Lost, Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M, because Sam is in Jack's body, inadvertent/suggested Sam/Sawyer, it's very confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7104790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diandrahollman/pseuds/diandrahollman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Becket leaps into Jack Shephard in 1970s Dharmaville. It proves to be his most confusing leap yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed story that I am migrating from livejournal. The cover picture was made by me.

  



	2. Welcome to Dharmaville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent part of the summer re-watching all five seasons of one of the greatest sci-fi shows in recent history: Quantum Leap. Then I sat down to write Lost fanfic and...well...my muse started getting ideas and this was the result. You don’t need to have watched “Quantum Leap” to understand what’s going on here (it'll all be explained, really), though *some* knowledge of the show might make it more fun to read. And yes, it's still a Jawyer fic because that's the only pairing I am the least bit interested in writing fic about, apparently. 
> 
> Spoilers: For Lost: “The Variable” through “The Incident”.   
> Disclaimer: Sam and Al belong(ed) to Donald Bellisario. The first couple paragraphs of the story are directly transcribed from the introduction to each episode of “Quantum Leap”. Everyone else belongs to Darlton and JJ Abrams, as do any events or dialogue that mirror “Lost” cannon. I’m just having some harmless, nonprofit fun playing with them.   
> Dedication: To the creators – and fans – of two of the best damn sci-fi shows on television.

Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator and vanished. 

He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an Observer from his own time who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. 

And so, Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home… 

****** 

A certain degree of disorientation always accompanied Sam Beckett’s leaps through other people’s lives. This time, when the world stopped wobbling crazily and his surroundings came into focus he was relieved to find himself alone. At least he would have time to try to figure out who, where and when he was before he had to confront anyone or anything. 

The who was easy. According to his generic brown jumpsuit pocket his name was Jack and his job title was “work man” which, judging by the mop in his hands, meant he was a janitor. “Great,” he mumbled, dumping the mop into the nearby bucket. 

The where and when proved more difficult. He was in an elementary school classroom, that much was obvious from the artwork on the walls. It was a small room with one door and a small window, both of which led outside, so he figured he was either in a satellite building or some rural one-room schoolhouse. Judging by the jungle foliage he could see outside he thought it just might be the latter. 

There were no calendars, datebooks, newspapers or even clocks in the room. His only other clue was the repeated appearance of an octagonal logo with the word “Dharma” in the center.

‘Well, so far it *sounds* like the 70s,’ he thought helplessly. Until Al showed up he would just have to wing it. ‘As if reliving the 70s isn’t bad enough.’ 

He was just reaching for one of the drawers in the teacher’s desk – intent on searching for some sort of clue – when a voice outside called “Jack?” 

Before Sam could answer a portly man with long, curly hair came around the door frame, took one look at him and stopped. “Oh, uh...sorry. You must be new. Listen, uh...if you see Jack around, could you tell him LaFleur wants to see him?” 

Sam blinked slowly at the man as the meaning of his words sunk in. So much for knowing the who. “Oh boy...” He recovered quickly. If there was one thing he’d learned leaping through time it was the art of rolling with unexpected punches. “Uh, sure. What’s your name again?” 

The man stepped closer and held out his hand, which Sam tentatively shook. “Just call me Hurley.” Hurley’s friendly smile faltered suddenly as his eyes fell on the pocket of Sam’s jumpsuit. “Why are you wearing Jack’s clothes?” 

Sam’s momentary relief at not being expected to produce his own name gave way to more disorientation. “Uh...I spilled some grease on my uniform, so Jack let me borrow this one while mine is being cleaned.” He hoped this explanation would be plausible enough to placate Hurley. He also hoped whoever he’d leaped into hadn’t killed this Jack person and stolen his clothes. 

‘Best not to let him think about it,’ Sam thought. “Well, I should get back to work. I’ll give Jack the message when I see him.” ‘*If* I see him,’ he thought morbidly. He abandoned the desk to pick up the mop and resume wiping down the already surgically clean looking floor. 

“Okay.” Hurley shrugged and shuffled back out the door. 

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the desk drawer again. It was locked. As was every other drawer in the desk. “Damnit!” 

“Well, well,” a new voice drawled from the doorway, nearly making Sam jump right out of the chair he was sitting in. “If it ain’t good ole’ Jack Shephard sittin’ on the job.” 

Sam glanced at the name sewn in his jumpsuit again and decided he just wasn’t meant to get his footing on this leap. “Sorry. I was just...” He looked up at the smiling man now standing before him and quickly read the name emblazoned on his jumpsuit pocket. LaFleur. “Oh...did you...talk to Hurley?” 

“I ain’t seen ‘im since I sent him out lookin’ for you. Why?” 

Sam frowned. If he *was* Jack and Hurley thought he was someone else...he shook his head. Best not to make any assumptions yet. “Nothing. Never mind.” 

LaFleur’s charming, dimpled smile faltered a little and he cocked his head at Sam. “You okay there, Doc? You’re lookin’ kinda pale.” 

‘Doc? Strange nickname for a janitor...’ “I’m fine, it’s just...” Sam fished for a response, then remembered the jungle outside. “It’s kinda hot in here. I needed to sit down for a minute.” 

LaFleur’s smile fell entirely, replaced by a look of worry. “You okay? You ain’t sick, are you?” 

“No. I...” Sam was surprised when the Southerner marched around the desk and grabbed him by the chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Sam was struck by the gentle firmness of his touch and the depth of concern in his clear green eyes. “I’m fine,” he finished weakly. 

LaFleur grunted. “That your official diagnosis, Doc?” 

“I’m a doctor,” Sam mumbled, getting more confused by the second. 

LaFleur’s eyes widened and he held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holdin’ up?” 

Sam decided he’d just have to throw caution to the wind for the time being. “I don’t have a concussion, LaFleur, it’s just mild heat stress. That happens sometimes when you work in the middle of a jungle in a building that doesn’t have air conditioning.” 

LaFleur frowned. “Never saw you complainin’ when we were livin’ in tents. And you were workin’ a helluva lot harder back then – runnin’ around playin’ God. And why’re you callin’ me LaFleur?” 

Sam blinked at the man and scrambled to both make sense of that confusing bit of information and come up with a reply that wouldn’t send up any more red flags. ‘Where are you when I need you, Al?’ “What should I call you?” 

The charming smirk slowly melted back onto LaFleur’s lips. “Well, round the Dharma folk you can call me Jim, but otherwise...” he leaned down until his lips practically touched Sam’s ear. “I’m kinda partial to ‘Sawyer’ now. ‘specially when I’ve heard how you can say it,” he murmured. 

Sam stiffened and fought the urge to shove the man away and run for the door. He had been pretty sure Jack – or whoever he was supposed to be – was a man, but now he wasn’t so sure of anything. Was Jack short for Jackie? No, even without a mirror he could see that the shoes he was wearing were definitely men’s shoes. So was this man Jack’s lover or was he just playing some sort of game? “Hu...Hurley said you wanted to see me, sir? Uh, Sawyer?” 

Sawyer chuckled and brushed his lips against Sam’s neck. “Sir. Now there’s somethin’ I never thought I’d hear comin’ from you. I think I might like bein’ your boss for a change.” 

Sam’s eyes widened as Sawyer’s hand landed on his knee and started creeping steadily up the inside of his thigh, removing any further questions as to both Jack’s gender and his sexuality. 

“I was just hopin’ I could talk you into a little afternoon delight,” Sawyer said in a deep, rumbling bedroom voice. “Whaddya say, darlin’?” 

Sam jumped from the chair with, he was pretty sure, a highly undignified squeak and took two clumsy steps away from Sawyer before stumbling into a filing cabinet. He had just enough time to regain his balance before Sawyer was at his side, one arm around his waist, steadying him. 

“Jesus...you really are sick.” 

Sam opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated when he saw the concern in Sawyer’s eyes again. “I...I’ll be fine. I just need a cool place to lie down for a while.” 

Sawyer looked skeptical and Sam worried that his heat stress excuse might cause Sawyer to fret over him like a mother hen. “You sure?” 

Sam managed what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Sawyer looked into his eyes for several moments, like he was searching for some sort of clue. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll see if I can find someone to cover you. Let’s get you back to the cabin.” 

Sam nodded, his shoulder muscles relaxing in relief, and let Sawyer guide him from the small building with a hand under his elbow. He felt bad now for worrying Sawyer. It was clear the man loved Jack. Sam suddenly remembered Al once telling him that any friendship involves a certain degree of love, but as far as his leap-damaged memory could recall he had never actually been *in love* with a man before. Though having to dress in skin-tight skirts and ward off groping men he would never even consider friends had a way of throwing one’s sexuality into question. 

‘My sexuality doesn’t matter,’ Sam berated himself. ‘As long as I’m here I am *Jack*, and Jack...is apparently a gay man.’ As long as Sawyer stayed above the belt during that time he could handle it. Man or woman, he was never comfortable with the more intimate parts of his hosts lives. It felt too much like adultery. 

His thoughts scattered as Sawyer guided him through a small compound that appeared to have been built in the middle of nowhere, surrounded on all sides by thick jungle vegetation. The style and colors of the simple cookie cutter houses – and the shiny new VW buses parked at the edges of the compound – told him he was, in fact, somewhere in the 70s. It looked like they were somewhere in the south Pacific, but it was impossible to tell where, exactly. His best guess was Hawaii since so far, everyone he’d met had spoken with American accents. Wherever this place was, it was certainly isolated from the outside world. 

‘Great,’ he thought bitterly. ‘I’m probably in some sort of cult.’ 

Sawyer guided Sam into one of the houses and right into a sparsely furnished bedroom. Sam dropped onto the bed gratefully and massaged his throbbing temples. 

Sawyer knelt in front of him, ducking his head to try to meet Sam’s eyes. “You sure you’re okay? You need anythin’?” 

Sam managed a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. I just need to rest a while.” 

Sawyer didn’t look entirely convinced, but he obviously trusted Jack to know better in such matters. “Okay, well...I’ll send Freckles by later to check on you anyway.” 

‘Freckles?’ “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Sam hoped he’d have a better grip on the situation by then.

Sawyer leaned forward suddenly, cradling Sam’s face between his hands and kissing him briefly but with unmistakable passion. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Sam tried to think of an excuse to get out of whatever Sawyer had planned but came up blank. He nodded reluctantly, his lips firmly sealed. 

Sawyer smiled, looking relieved, and stood up, kissing him on the forehead before finally leaving the cabin. 

 

TBC


	3. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I changed the translation on Jack’s tattoo. I think the actual translation of Matthew’s tattoo is just as appropriate as the fake one in this context. Sue me.

*********  
Previously on Quantum Lost... 

Sawyer leaned forward suddenly, cradling Sam’s face between his hands and kissing him briefly but with unmistakable passion. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Sam tried to think of an excuse to get out of whatever Sawyer had planned but came up blank. He nodded reluctantly, his lips firmly sealed. 

Sawyer smiled, looking relieved, and stood up, kissing him on the forehead before finally leaving the cabin.  
********* 

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the front door shut, then groaned. ‘Great. I’m a gay man in the 70s, living with what looks like a hippie cult in the middle of God-knows-where. He shot an exasperated glance at the ceiling. “I guess just being a gay man in the 70s wasn’t challenging enough?” 

Sam sighed and unzipped his uncomfortable jumpsuit before setting to work at gathering more clues about his identity while he waited for Al to show up and give him some idea of what he was here to do. 

He unearthed a wallet from a pair of pants buried in the bedroom closet. Inside, he found a California driver’s license and an ID badge from St. Sebastian’s hospital in Los Angeles. From these, he learned his host’s name (Jack Shephard), his apparently former job title (surgeon), his hair and eye color, height, weight and date of birth. Sam stared at this last bit of information as yet another one of the facts he thought he’d gleaned so far slipped away. “July 14, 1966.” Sam searched for a mirror and stood in front of it, looking back and forth between the license and the dark haired man in his reflection. “Definitely not the 70s,” he muttered. 

He looked at the license again. “Issued February 2005.” He groaned. “I’m in the future. Great.” On the one hand, his sexuality was unlikely to be a big issue. On the other...how could he be here to fix something in these people’s lives if none of this had technically happened yet? He tossed the wallet and ID cards aside and leaned in closer to his reflection. The man in the mirror looked just as lost and confused as he felt. He caught sight of some sort of mark on his arm and instinctively looked down, remembering only belatedly that it wasn’t *his* arm he should be looking at. He looked back at the mirror and turned to get a better look at Jack’s left shoulder. Brightly colored tattoos ran up and down both the inside and outside of his bicep. 

“I’m a doctor,” Sam asked his equally skeptical reflection. He squinted at a string of characters centered beneath a large number 5 and carefully traced them backward. “Eagle high long space.” He blinked as long forgotten words tumbled into his mind. “Eagles high up cleaving the space. Who masters fates rise and descent?” He cocked his head at the cryptic, yet apparently famous line as a new realization about his own past settled in his mind. “I can read Chinese.” The rest of the tattoo was a maze of images that made little sense to Sam and were probably not supposed to. One thing was certain – Jack was the most hard core doctor Sam had ever seen. He flexed his arms and watched Jack’s substantial muscles bulge and ripple in the mirror. “When does a doctor find this much time to work out,” he murmured. 

Not finding any more useful clues in his reflection, Sam spent the better part of the next hour searching the cabin. He found nothing useful, other than that – judging by the underwear in the cabin’s second bedroom – his roommate was a woman. The cabin itself was so generically bland with no personal items anywhere than Sam could only conclude that Jack and this mysterious woman had either just moved in or were the most boring people in the world. Possibly both. 

He was trying to work out why all the appliances in the kitchen looked horribly antiquated for 2005 when the front door opened. 

“Jack,” a female voice called. 

Sam held back a groan as his hope of having a better grasp on the situation before dealing with anyone else was dashed. He’d just have to keep winging it. “In here.” 

A beautiful woman in a grease stained jumper similar to everyone else’s came around the corner and paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “Why are you in your underwear?” 

Sam looked down at the boxers and undershirt he was wearing. “Uh...the overalls were uncomfortable. Sorry.” He sheepishly crossed his arms in front of his hips. 

The woman rolled her eyes. “What are you apologizing for? It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked before.” 

Sam spluttered. “Um...right. I forgot.” He let his arms fall at his sides uncomfortably. 

His response didn’t reassure her. “You forgot?” 

“I mean...I just...force of habit, I guess,” he choked out. 

She frowned and stepped closer, reaching up to feel his forehead like a mother checking for fever. “Sawyer said you were acting strange...” 

Her new proximity gave Sam a close view of the smattering of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks and he remembered what Sawyer had said before he left. ‘Must be her nickname.’ “I’m fine, Freckles,” he reassured her. 

She froze, staring at him. “When did you start using Sawyer’s nicknames?” 

‘Damnit.’ “I mean...” he glanced at her jumpsuit pocket. “Kate.” 

Kate pressed her palms to either side of his face and forced him to look her in the eye. “What happened?” 

“Nothing...” 

“Something’s wrong.” 

“No! Nothing’s wrong, I just...” Sam closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He’d been a black man in the pre-civil rights south, a pregnant teenager and even a chimp, but somehow he sensed this leap was going to prove his most trying yet. 

Kate barreled on. “Sawyer said you were having some sort of heat stroke?” 

Sam groaned. “Heat stress or mild, early heat exhaustion. If I had heat stroke I would be unconscious and permanently brain damaged by now.” 

This reassurance seemed to work. Kate relaxed her hands, letting them fall to rest on his shoulders. “What are you doing wandering around then? Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

“I was...I just needed some water.” 

“Oh.” She turned and opened a cabinet, pulling out a glass. Sam was so glad he didn’t have to search blindly for it and make himself look even more like an idiot that he could have kissed her. 

“Thanks,” he said sincerely, taking the glass and filling it in the sink. 

Kate rubbed his arm kindly and said “I should get back to work before Juliet starts to worry. Will you be okay here until Sawyer gets back?” 

Sam’s hope that he could avoid the sweet talking southerner for a while longer disappeared. The thought of waiting in this mysterious place for the man to come back and feel him up some more was less than appealing but until he knew why he was there he didn’t have much choice. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” He smiled at Kate in a way he hoped was reassuring. 

She smiled back and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Get some more rest.” 

Sam nodded dumbly and watched as she slipped out the door. ‘Who the hell are these people?’ He drank a little more water, threw the rest down the sink and went back to investigating. 

After another hour, he was no closer to understanding when or where he was. He thought he had something for a moment when he went to find some aspirin for his growing headache and discovered a prescription bottle of painkillers, but aside from telling him that Jack had been prescribed clonozipam in April of 2007 they didn’t prove a useful source of information. “2007,” Sam muttered. “How far in the future am I?” 

After a while Sam gave up and laid down on the bed in the hopes that a couple minutes of rest would make everything somehow clearer. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until the bed shifted under the weight of another body. He snapped awake, his body tensing, instinctively readying him to react to any possible threat, and then relaxed when he found a still concerned looking Sawyer sitting beside him. 

“Feelin’ better?” 

Sam looked to the bedroom window where the sunlight pouring through had grown dimmer. “What time is it?” 

“It’s quittin’ time,” Sawyer answered unhelpfully. “You hungry?” 

Sam opened his mouth to refuse, but his stomach grumbled in protest. “A little,” he admitted reluctantly. 

Sawyer patted his leg and stood up. “Well, c’mon then!” 

******** 

“Wanna hear somethin’ funny,” Sawyer asked around a mouthful of cheeseburger. “Hugo says he saw one of the new guys cleanin’ out the schoolhouse wearin’ your clothes.” 

Sam swallowed heavily. He had almost forgotten about the man he’d met earlier in the day. “Really? Did he say who it was?” 

“Didn’t recognize him. Says he ain’t seen ‘im around before. I told him to forget about it – prob’ly just the heat gettin’ to ‘im. Seems to be a lot of that goin’ around lately.” 

Sam smiled weakly. “Has he been seeing things a lot?” 

Sawyer shrugged. “You’re the one’t checked him outta the funny farm. You seemed to think he was fine then.” 

Sam groaned inwardly. Just what he was afraid of. Hurley could probably see him, which meant he would also see Al if and when the man decided to show up. Sam would have to be especially careful. 

When they finished eating Sam offered to wash the dishes, needing to feel like he was doing something useful. He hoped there wasn’t something going on in some other cabin that he was supposed to be dealing with and he missed it because he was afraid to make anyone else in this backward community suspicious. But if that were the case, he figured Al would have appeared shouting frantically about whatever it was by now. At least he hoped so. 

He forced himself to relax as Sawyer’s arms came around his waist from behind. “You know,” the man drawled in his ear. “There’s these new-fangled machines called dishwashers. Maybe you’ve heard of ‘em?” 

Sam chuckled nervously. “Yeah, well...I like doing it this way. Gives me time to think.” 

Sawyer huffed. “You think too damn much already.” He rubbed his nose gently against Sam’s hair. “But you’re cute when you get all domestic.” 

Sam leaned away and twisted his head around to shoot Sawyer an annoyed look. “Are you gonna help me or are you just gonna stand there?” 

Sawyer smiled. “Well, long’s you asked so nicely.” 

“Please,” Sam added with a touch of sarcasm as Sawyer reached for the dishtowel to start drying. “Thank you.” 

The front door slammed and moments later Kate appeared in the entry to the kitchen, a bit more mussed and dirty than the first time Sam had seen her. 

“Feeling better,” she asked. 

Sam smiled at her. “Yeah, thanks.” 

“You hungry, Freckles,” Sawyer offered as she started to walk away. 

“Uh, no, thanks. I already ate. I just wanna take a shower and crawl in bed right now.” 

Sawyer huffed. “Jules is runnin’ you ragged?” 

She smiled playfully. “Just tryin’ to fit in, James.” 

“Don’t use up all the hot water,” Sawyer called after her retreating back. “Who’m I kiddin’,” he added in a low grumble. “Woman takes fifteen minute showers. We might have ta shower together t’ make up for it.” He leered at Sam suggestively. 

“That’s okay. I can wait until morning,” Sam said quickly. 

Sawyer didn’t seem to notice the brush off. He just kept talking. “You know these hippies are all about conservin’ things. Maybe we could invent the low-flow toilet and make some money outta this crazy trip.” 

Most of what Sawyer was saying baffled Sam, but then he was getting used to that happening on this leap. He finished the last piece of silverware and dried his hands. “I’m uh...just gonna go to bed. I’m still kind of tired.” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there,” Sawyer replied absently as Sam headed for the door. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sam muttered under his breath. 

******** 

Sam lay on the bed theorizing what he could possibly be doing in this place in this strange future time, listening to the water running in the shower one room over. 

Something Sawyer had said earlier kept rattling around in his brain. “Maybe we could invent the low flush toilet.” If this was 2007 or even 2005 those had already been patented, but considering the appliances and furniture in this house...had these people found some sort of strange civilized culture that somehow hadn’t progressed further than the 70s? 

Sam didn’t realize the water had stopped running until Sawyer was right outside the bedroom door. He closed his eyes quickly and feigned sleep as Sawyer crawled into bed beside him. 

“You asleep, baby?” 

Sam breathed deeply and evenly, not moving a muscle. 

Sawyer sighed and shifted closer until he was plastered to Sam’s back. Sam stayed stubbornly still as a muscled arm wrapped around his waist and Sawyer’s bare chest pressed to his back. 

“You better be okay, Doc,” Sawyer muttered to himself, pressing a gentle kiss to Sam’s shoulder. “I ain’t about to lose you again.” 

Sam felt a sharp ache in his chest as Sawyer settled and slowly drifted to sleep. It was becoming obvious that Sawyer really did love Jack and was worried about him. Avoiding him was just going to make him worry more and possibly even hurt him. ‘I can’t be here to break them up,’ he thought. ‘I can’t destroy their relationship just because it makes me uncomfortable. Part of Jack must still be in me. That part must want to love Sawyer and keep him happy. As long as it doesn’t go too far...I can handle that.’ 

Sam rested his hand on Sawyer’s forearm. “You won’t lose me,” he whispered. 

Sawyer grunted softly, already mostly asleep. Sam relaxed into his grip and followed him. 

 

TBC 

Next chapter...Al! :)


	4. Al!

He was awoken from a light sleep by a familiar whooshing noise. 

“Okay Gushie, I’ve got ‘im,” Al announced in a slightly nasal voice. 

Sam’s eyes snapped open in time to see the lighted door of the imaging chamber slam shut, leaving his holographic friend standing in the middle of the dark bedroom. “Al!” 

Al waved a warning hand at him. “Quiet! You don’t want to wake sleeping beauty over there.” 

Sam carefully disengaged Sawyer’s arms from around him, dropping his voice to a whisper-yell. “What took you so long?” 

“Are you kidding? Ziggy damn near blew a circuit trying to locate you! The first time we thought we had a fix I wound up face to face with a shark. I don’t know which of us was more startled, me or him.” 

Sam cast a critical eye at Al as he slipped from the bed. Even in the dark bedroom, Al’s red pantsuit and mirrored shirt buttons were blinding. “That depends. Were you wearing that?”

Al glowered. “Very funny. C’mon, we need to talk. I’ll meet you in the living room.” He punched a few buttons on his blinking hand set and disappeared from the room, reappearing almost instantly in the room down the hall. 

Sam rushed after him. He stopped short as he got a good look at the bandage covering Al’s nose, which was accompanied by a couple minor bruises and what looked like a painful split in his lip. He looked like he’d been in a bar fight. “What happened to your face?” 

Al winced. “Eh, let’s just say the guy in the waiting room wasn’t very happy to see me.” 

“Jack did that?” 

“Yeah, right before he started ranting about something called the Dharma Initiative and demanding to see lover boy in there.” Al waved in the general direction of the bedroom and tapped at his handset again. “Now, let’s see...your name is Jack Shephard...” 

“I know,” Sam interrupted, the scientist in him coming fully awake, a giddy feeling of excitement coming over him at the prospect of this assignment. “I’m a doctor in Los Angeles and Al...I’m in the future!” 

Al made a face. “Uh...no, you’re not.” 

Sam faltered. On some level he had known that but he couldn’t think of an alternative explanation that made sense. “I’m not?” 

“No, it’s July 10, 1977 and you’re on an island somewhere in the Pacific.” 

“Al. I found Jack’s driver’s license and it said he...*I* was born in 1966.” He waved a hand at his face. “Do I look eleven years old?” 

“No,” Al agreed hesitantly. “You’re forty.” 

“I don’t understand! These people are talking about things that didn’t happen until the 90s. How is that possible if this is 1977?” 

Al rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily. “You may wanna sit down.” 

Sam wanted to argue but caught the weary, pleading look in Al’s eyes and caved, sitting on the uncomfortable sofa obediently. 

Al paced a few steps, seemingly searching for a way to begin. “The reason we couldn’t find you is because we had the who and the when but we didn’t have the where, which turned out to be the most important detail. Along with the when.” 

“Al, you’re not making any sense.” 

“Welcome to my world,” Al sighed. He stopped pacing and bent over in front of Sam until their faces were inches – give or take a couple decades – apart. “As far as anyone can tell this island doesn’t exist. In fact, after 1977 this place will be practically deserted until Jack and a whole plane full of people crash here in 2004.” 

“2004...” 

“I’m not finished. Now, once Jack decided to start cooperating he told us that he and a small group of people left the island in December of that year and spent three years living back in civilization before trying to come back for the people they left behind. Only problem was, he said the island was almost impossible to find again because it had moved. Through time.” 

Sam stared at Al as the implications whirled through his mind. “How did they find it?” 

Al chuckled and straightened up, waving his arms exaggeratedly as he said “there’s the kicker! Jack says the mother of some brilliant Oxford physicist told them to recreate all the events leading up to their first crash in 2004, get on a specific airplane with some Indian airline nobody’s ever heard of and hope lightning would strike twice. Somehow it worked. He said there was a bright flash of light and bingo bango bongo they ended up here. On this island. In 1977.” 

“They time traveled,” Sam murmured as pieces of the puzzle began locking into place in his mind. 

“I know. Crazy, huh?” Al took a puff of his ever-present cigar and flicked the ashes to the floor, where they disappeared. Sam sometimes felt sorry for whoever had to clean the imaging chamber. 

“Actually, it makes sense. How many of these people are from the future?” 

“Uh...” Al jabbed at his handlink and it emitted a series of beeps and squawks. “Six. No...seven. Plus a couple that didn’t make the jump back and a few who never left the island in the first place. We’re still counting.” Al’s eyes rolled skyward. “Boy, you sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

“Is Sawyer one of them,” Sam pressed. 

“Sawyer who?” 

“The man in the bedroom.” 

Al didn’t seem to hear him, his head turned, listening to something or somebody nearby in his own time. “What? Oh...” He tapped a few more buttons. “You mean James Ford.” He looked confused. “Is he one of what?” 

Sam forced himself to keep his voice low. “Is he from the future?” 

“Oh! Well, yes and no. He crashed here in 2004, but when the island moved back in time, he went with it.” 

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could have faced having to separate the two men so that Jack could go back to his own time. “What do we know about Hurley?” 

Al looked flustered. “Who now?” He glanced back at whoever was talking to him. “Does everybody here have at least two aliases? Geez...What do you need to know?” 

“When I leaped here he was the first person I saw. Al...he saw me!” 

Al raised an eyebrow at him and puffed his cigar. “Jack’s a time traveler, Sam, he’s not the Invisible Man.” 

Sam threw his hands up. “No! He didn’t see *Jack*. He saw *me*!” 

“Oh.” Al’s eyes widened. “Oh! Well, that’s not...that shouldn’t be possible unless he’s five years old or...” he twirled a finger beside his ear and whistled in cuckoo fashion. Then his eyes went wide and he spun around, seeming to address the nearby dresser. “What do you mean he was in a mental institution?!” 

Sam groaned. Just as he’d thought. 

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” Al continued. 

“Al,” Sam called, redirecting his friend’s attention back into his time. “Who are you talking to?” 

Al seemed momentarily startled by Sam’s voice and cleared his throat, turning back toward him. “Uh, Jack’s in the control room.” 

Sam’s eyes bulged. “*Jack* is in the *control room*?” 

Al became defensive. “Hey, the data we had was patchy at best. This place doesn’t exist, remember? We’re working blind here. Besides, his past is our future, so...” Al’s hand gestures became confused as his arms crossed over each other one too many times. “When Ziggy tried to cross-reference the data she had with what Jack was telling us she started predicting a 99% chance that the Earth would implode and form a black hole. It took hours for Dr. Beeks to convince her it wasn’t her fault the data was inconsistent. Anyway, Jack’s been feeding Ziggy data to fill in some of the gaps.” His handlink beeped and he squinted at it. “Apparently Hugo Reyes checked himself into a mental hospital in 2005 and claims he can see dead people.” Al rolled his eyes. “Great. So he’s either crazy or he’s some sort of psychic. Either way, you should try to avoid him as much as possible.” 

“Jack?” 

Sam jumped at the sudden intrusion and turned to find Kate standing in the doorway wearing only an oversize t-shirt. He shot to his feet, only to stand awkwardly shifting his weight back and forth. “Kate! What are you doing up?” 

Al predictably gravitated toward her like a moth to a flame, whistling appreciatively. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Kate said. “I thought I heard you talking.” 

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Al muttered. “You gave up *this* for *that* guy?” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the bedroom. 

Sam strained to focus only on Kate. “I was just thinking out loud.” 

She looked a little unsure yet, but she smiled. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” 

“Oh, would you relax,” Al shouted back at his invisible observer. “What could I possibly do? I’m a hologram! She can’t even see me!” 

“No, not really,” Sam replied at almost the same time. 

“It’s hard to believe we’re really back here.” 

Sam smiled tentatively. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, *I’m* a dog? From what I’ve heard, you’re getting more tail here than anybody!” 

Kate folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. “Do you wanna talk about what happened today?” 

“When?” 

“Sawyer said the time jumping could affect your mind, but you were fine until today.” 

“Oh, that. It was just the heat. Really. I’m fine now. Don’t worry.” 

“Hey, you leave my mother out of it,” Al snapped. 

Sam cleared his throat and Al whirled back on him. 

“What?! Oh...” His attention refocused on his handlink. “Jack was engaged to Kate for a while but the relationship fell apart before they came back here,” he explained. “Guess we know why. Jack says they’re still good friends.” 

‘That explains a couple things but doesn’t help much.’ “I’m just gonna get some water and go back to bed, I think,” Sam announced, brushing past Kate on his way to the kitchen, shooting Al a significant look when she couldn’t see it. “Do you want anything?” 

“No, I’m fine.” Kate hesitated a minute, hovering in the hallway while Sam dug through the cupboard for a glass. “I should probably get back to bed too.” 

Sam nodded absently, shoving the glass under the tap. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Kate slowly backed from the door, eyeing Sam with lingering worry and finally deciding there was nothing else she could do. She turned and headed back down the hall. 

Sam listened for her bedroom door to shut and put the glass down on the counter, spinning on Al. “Why am I here?” 

Al plucked the cigar from his mouth and jabbed a few buttons, the handlink beeping and whistling in time with his movements. “We’re not really sure. We’re still trying to work with very little information here, but Ziggy says there’s a 96% chance you’re here to stop the atom.” He frowned and thumped the side of the device with his palm, eliciting a plaintive squeal. “Atomic bomb,” he finished. His eyes went wide as the words fully registered, his face turning pale. 

“Atomic bomb,” Sam repeated, barely remembering to keep his voice low. 

Al punched a couple buttons. “Apparently in a couple days...this whole island is gonna become a...giant mushroom cloud.” 

Sam felt the wind go out of him suddenly and reached back to steady himself on the counter. “How?” 

“What do you mean ‘how’?” Al mimed a sound like an explosion and made accompanying hand gestures. “Bomb. Or did your swiss-cheese memory forget what those are?” 

“I mean *how*. An explosion like that doesn’t just happen by itself!” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what Jack’s told us about this place...” Al looked around nervously and shivered. “Let’s just say it isn’t exactly paradise island.” 

“Yes, I know,” Sam snapped. “It has polar bears and pirate ships and it’s guarded by a giant column of black smoke.” He blinked. “Wait, how do I know that?” 

Al looked just as surprised. “I don’t know. Your mind must be merging with Jack’s. It happens sometimes. You have some of his memories. Anyway, Ziggy doesn’t know how the bomb goes off. All we know is that in the original history there were reports of some sort of blast and a strong electromagnetic pulse coming from this very spot in the ocean.” 

Sam swallowed a groan and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Al. How am I supposed to stop a bomb from going off if I don’t know where it is or who is going to set it off?” 

“Uh...we’re working on that. For now, just...keep an eye out and see if you can get any more information.” He tapped a couple buttons and the door to the imaging chamber sprung open behind him. Al stepped through and stood for a moment with one finger poised over his keypad. “And uh...try to keep a low profile.” He tapped a button and the door snapped shut, leaving Sam alone and reeling in this strange place. 

‘The bomb doesn’t go off for a couple days,’ he reassured himself. ‘The best thing I can do right now is get some rest so I can think clearly in the morning.’ 

Sawyer shifted and blinked up at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong,” he asked sleepily. 

Sam swallowed, feeling a knot of dread slowly forming in his gut. He’d been afraid his mission might somehow affect Jack’s relationship with Sawyer. Knowing what the mission was now did little to assuage that fear. If he couldn’t figure out how to stop this bomb, both Jack and Sawyer could die. “Nothing,” he lied. 

“Then come over here.” 

Sam looked back at Sawyer’s open, inviting arms and soft, loving smile and the part of him that remained Jack wanted to reach out and draw the man into his arms. He wasn’t sure if that stemmed more from a need to comfort one or both of them in the face of the violence sure to come or a simple desire for human contact. Whatever the reason, he gave in and let Sawyer draw him into his embrace. 

TBC


	5. Hurley

Sam woke the next morning to Sawyer shaking him gently. 

“C’mon baby, I can only cover for ya so long. You don’t want the good ole’ Dharma folk thinkin’ ‘bout firin’ you.” 

Sam groaned. He felt like he’d run a mile uphill. His whole body was sore in places he was sure he’d never felt sore before. ‘What the hell happened to me?’ He shifted and started to sit up, then froze when he realized two things. The first was that he was naked. The second was that his skin felt decidedly sticky. He couldn’t remember how either of these things had come to be but judging by the smile on Sawyer’s face he was pretty sure he could take a guess. 

He was too stunned by this revelation to react as Sawyer brushed a chaste kiss over his lips. “I made breakfast. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Um...yeah,” Sam spluttered as Sawyer got up to leave, fingers trailing down Sam’s arm as if he was reluctant to go. “Thanks.” 

Seconds after the front door closed Sam was in the shower scrubbing himself thoroughly and wondering if the images tumbling through his head were just dreams or fragments of memories Jack had left him with to explain the condition he’d been left in. They were just brief flashes – him writhing under and over Sawyer – yet he saw them as if he had been a detached observer and not a prisoner in his own body. 

He got dressed and stumbled down the hall to the kitchen where Sawyer had left some eggs, a half a mango and a pot of coffee sitting out for him. 

“You may wanna eat that quick.” 

Sam jumped as Al appeared from behind him, now wearing a mustard yellow suit with a black checkered shirt and shiny yellow tie. The outfit, combined with the knowing smirk on his face, made the word “canary” jump to mind. Though maybe “bumble bee” was more accurate. 

“Al, I think I had sex last night.” 

“No, technically Jack had sex last night.” 

“This isn’t funny, Al,” Sam hissed. “I feel like I’ve been violated!” 

Al stopped chuckling. “Relax. As far as we can tell, *you* spent most of the time in the waiting room reciting formulas and explaining string theory in your sleep.” He waved at the food. “Are you gonna eat or what?” 

Sam sat carefully on a kitchen chair and reached for the fork, jamming a bite of now-cooled eggs into his mouth. “What happened,” he asked as he chewed. 

“From what we can tell, your mind merged with Jack’s and he...sort of...took over somehow. When he fell asleep, you switched back. He says he wanted to ‘say goodbye’ just in case this thing doesn’t work.” Al shrugged. 

Sam swallowed his bite of mango. “And you let him?” 

“Let him? We didn’t even know he was doing it! We never thought he’d try something like that. You should see this guy – he’s almost as big a boy scout as you! Of course, he’s also got a stubborn streak like you wouldn’t believe. He kind of reminds me of my third...” Al frowned and squinted, searching his memory. “Fourth? No, fifth. My fifth wife.” He shrugged. “Anyway, considering the current state of the guy in the waiting room I guess I can’t really blame him for doing what he did.” 

Sam snorted. “You wouldn’t.” 

Al held up his hands defensively. “Well, that blond hick wouldn’t be my first choice, but I’m just saying. These guys seem to have a lot more than just lust between them. Although from what I hear, the Earth may have moved last night.” 

Sam groaned. 

“Check your pocket.” Al pointed to the pocket with the Dharma patch on his jumpsuit. 

Sam reached into it and pulled out a slip of paper, unfolding it warily. 

“I love you,” it said simply in what he assumed was Sawyer’s handwriting. 

“He put that in there before he left,” Al explained unnecessarily. 

The simple sweetness of the gesture and the implications behind it made Sam feel like an ass for faulting Jack’s behavior. He couldn’t fail this mission. He couldn’t let Jack’s hijacking of his body be the couple’s last goodbye. 

“Help me find that bomb, Al.” 

“Oh, we found it.” 

Sam choked on a mouthful of food. “You found it?” 

“Yeah, well...sort of. Apparently with all the time traveling going on on this island somebody from the future went back to 1954 and told the original inhabitants to bury the bomb they had for...” he tapped his hand control and shrugged. “Some reason. He said it was leaking and they should bury it in concrete to be safe. All you have to do is figure out why somebody would want to dig it back up and set it off.” 

“And I have until tomorrow to do that.” 

Al nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon, yes.” 

Sam finished his coffee and tossed all the dishes in the sink to be dealt with later. “Let’s get started.” 

******* 

After spending the morning talking to various people and supplementing the information he gathered with whatever data Al could get from Ziggy and Jack, Sam decided that these people were living out one big soap opera. Jack had a recently discovered half sister somewhere who may or may not be dead – nobody seemed to know where or when she was – and a nephew who called Kate “mommy”. Jack had been married, cheated on, and divorced within a year. Then he’d been engaged to Kate briefly before he accused Kate of cheating too and started drinking and doing drugs. The woman Kate worked with – Juliet – had once, in the future, worked for a man Jack would only describe as an “evil bastard”, though he assured Al she had done so against her will and was currently on their side. And all of them were now infiltrating a group called the Dharma Initiative for reasons that were unclear. What was clear was that the Dharma Initiative didn’t take kindly to outsiders. One of their group hadn’t been successfully infiltrated and had been taken prisoner, though no one seemed too concerned about him, partly because he had already escaped sometime recently and, as a former Iraqi soldier, was perfectly capable of defending himself. 

By the time everyone broke for lunch, Sam’s head was spinning. That’s when he found out that Hurley – the man he’d been trying to avoid – worked in the Dharma cafeteria. Thankfully, the man didn’t try to approach him. He just watched warily from across the room while Sam talked with a smart alecky kid named Miles, who was unsettled by Al’s presence even though he couldn’t see him. 

Sam waited until everyone had finished eating and started to scatter. “Stay close,” he muttered to Al before approaching Hurley. “We need to talk. Is there someplace more private we can go?” 

Hurley looked like he wanted to scream and run in the other direction, but he just nodded, turned to what must have been his supervisor and excused himself. 

Sam followed him wordlessly out of the building, across the main courtyard and into what looked like a storage shed, stepping into the room first. Al was already there, standing next to a pool table and punching buttons in his console. When Hurley saw him he froze, hovering in the half-open door. 

“Who is he?” 

“Just a figment of your imagination, kid,” Al muttered around his cigar. 

“Al,” Sam snapped. 

Al shrugged. “Worth a shot.” 

“Who are *you*,” Hurley continued, getting increasingly anxious. “Why does everyone think you’re Jack? What did you do to him?” 

“Hurley, I can explain everything,” Sam said gently. “Just come inside.” 

“I’m not going anywhere ‘til you tell me where Jack is,” Hurley argued stubbornly. 

“He’s safe. He’s...” Sam hesitated a moment. “He’s in the future.” 

Hurley stared at Sam blankly. “The future.” 

“Careful, Sam,” Al warned. 

“Sam,” Hurley repeated, a slight questioning tone in his voice. 

Sam stepped closer to Hurley, slowly, as if approaching a skittish colt, and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Please, Hurley. We’re not going to hurt you – or Jack. Just come inside and let me explain.” 

Hurley debated for a minute, looking around the room and glancing outside as if expecting someone to jump from somewhere and prove he was walking into an ambush. Then he stepped inside and let the door shut behind him. “Five minutes.” He pulled a chair from the corner into the middle of the floor – a safe distance from the door – and sat, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Sam blew out a breath and pulled a second chair in front of Hurley, sitting on the edge of it. He debated how best to begin his explanation and finally decided to just go with the direct approach. “We’re from the future. You see...I tried to create a sort of time machine with the idea that it was possible to leap back to any point in time during a person’s life. Except it didn’t quite work the way I planned and I’ve been leaping into *other* people’s lives to fix whatever went wrong ever since.” He stopped, watching Hurley’s face carefully for a reaction. 

“If you’re from the future, then who’s the president,” Hurley finally asked skeptically. 

Sam – whose swiss-cheesed memory could barely recall who had been president when he’d been born – looked to Al for assistance. 

Al, who had been watching the exchange warily, puffing on his cigar, snapped to attention. “Bill Clinton.” 

“Ha!” Hurley crowed triumphantly. “He hasn’t been president for eight years!” 

Al rolled his eyes. “He didn’t say he was from *your* future, kid.” 

Hurley looked confused. “So...when are you from?” 

This, Sam remembered. “1999.” 

“November 30th,” Al added. “Which means we’ve got a little over a month before Ziggy goes caphooey.” 

“Dude, are you talking about Y2K? Uh, that...didn’t happen.” 

Al and Sam blinked at each other. 

“So, wait...how did you get here and why can’t anybody see you?” 

Al smirked. “’cause I’m not really here. I’m in 1999.” 

“Al is a hologram,” Sam explained. “He helps me figure out why I end up in certain people’s lives at certain times. He’s tuned into my brain waves so that only I can see him, but sometimes kids and animals and...people who are sensitive can see him too.” 

Hurley’s mood deflated. “You mean crazy people.” 

“No,” Sam blurted. “No, see...the reason everyone else sees Jack is because they see his aura surrounding me. It takes a certain ability for a person over the age of five to see past that aura. Your brain is just...wired differently somehow.” 

Hurley considered this for a minute. “So Jack is in the future.” 

Sam nodded. “In 1999.” 

“Prove it. Let me see him.” 

“No can do, kid,” Al said. 

“If you want me to believe you, I have to know Jack is okay,” Hurley argued. 

“It’s okay,” Sam interrupted, nodding to Al. “You’ve already let him in the control room. It can’t hurt.” 

Al gaped at Sam, frustrated. “Even if that wasn’t *completely* against the rules, it would take time and enough power to light St. Louis. You know that.” 

“Not if we don’t need to hear him,” Sam argued. “As long as you’re touching him we’ll be able to see him, right?” 

Al opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again. He thought for a moment, then nodded and muttered “yeah, okay. But when this all goes caca remember: I told you so.” He turned to shout at the empty space behind him. “Gushie! Have someone get Jack from the waiting room.” He tapped a couple buttons on his handlink and paused. “Whaddya mean he’s here?” He sighed and pushed another button. The lighted door sprung open several steps behind him. “Well, send him in.” He rolled his eyes. “Just do it, Gushie.” 

“Who’s Gushie,” Hurley asked Sam, looking increasingly wary. 

“He’s our computer programmer.” 

“Oh.” Hurley nodded as if this made perfect sense. Sam smiled. 

“Good,” Al declared, pushing a button to snap the door shut again. “Now come over here,” he said, seemingly to the far wall. He held his arm out. “I know the room is empty,” he said after a long moment. “Just come over here and grab my arm.” 

Several silent moments later the man from Sam’s reflection appeared suddenly at Al’s side, gripping the Admiral’s forearm and looking very startled by the sudden shift in his surroundings. 

Hurley smiled, relieved. “Jack!” He jumped out of his chair and ran to grab Jack’s arm, his hand passing straight through Jack’s body. 

“He’s a hologram too, kid,” Al explained. 

Hurley waved an experimental hand through Al as well and frowned. “Then how do I know he’s real?” 

Jack’s mouth moved silently. 

“They can’t hear you,” Al reminded him. 

Jack looked frustrated for a moment, then he said something that made Al frown. 

“Horse?” 

Jack gestured, letting go of Al’s arm for a moment and popping out of existence. Al grabbed for his wrist, restabilizing his image. 

“I know what Horse is,” he grumbled. “Don’t let go again.” He turned to address Hurley, gentling his voice. “He says you owe him a rematch.” 

Hurley’s face broke into a grin. “Dude, I was getting worried! Are you okay?” 

Jack nodded, a friendly smile spreading across his face. “I’m fine, Hurley,” his lips said clearly. 

Hurley looked back and forth between Sam and Jack. “Dude, this is like...The Matrix or something.” 

Sam frowned. “The Matrix?” 

“It’s a movie, Sam,” Al explained. “Came out a few months ago. It’s pretty good.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, do yourself a favor and skip the sequels,” Hurley muttered. 

Al blinked at him, confused. 

Hurley switched gears and kept right on going. “So, why is Sam here and Jack is in the future?” 

“We don’t know,” Sam piped up. “Maybe you can help us with that.” 

Hurley turned back to Sam. “What do you need me to do?” 

Al and Jack both made frantic, one handed gestures behind Hurley’s back, both clearly begging Sam to not tell Hurley about the bomb. 

“Well, you can start by telling me how many of your group are from the future. Jack told us that some of you went back to the 50s?” 

Al and Jack breathed sighs of relief and Al flashed Sam a thumbs up. 

Hurley glanced back at Jack. “Oh, yeah. Sawyer said after we left, the island jumped around in time for a while.” 

“We knew about Sawyer,” Al interrupted. “Who went with him?” 

Jack frowned, probably trying to recall the names himself and failing because the leap had left him with holes where parts of his memory used to be. 

“Juliet, Jin, Miles and that creepy professor guy...Daniel? Yeah, that’s it.” 

Al frowned and tapped a few keys. “Daniel...oh, he’s the guy I told you about, Sam. His mother helped you get back to the island.” 

“Can you think of any reason any of them might want to hurt us,” Sam asked Hurley. 

Hurley cast a worried look back at Jack. “No...why?” 

“Just eliminating possibilities,” Sam said with, he hoped, a reassuring smile. No sense getting the kid worked up about something they knew next to nothing about yet. 

The conversation was interrupted when the door to the shed opened suddenly and Sawyer leaned inside. “There y’are. Floyd’s lookin’ for you, Hugo.” 

Two feet from him, Jack’s holographic image reached a hand toward Sawyer’s face. He hesitated inches from his target as he remembered he couldn’t be heard, much less felt. He dropped his hand, dejected, and gripped Al’s arm tighter in frustration. 

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” Hurley answered. 

Before Sawyer could back out the door or say anything else, Sam – suddenly and without a word – got up from his chair, walked across the room and kissed him passionately. Sawyer returned the kiss easily, cradling the back of Sam’s head with one hand. 

“What’s he doing,” Hurley whispered to Al. He wasn’t sure what was weirder – the fact that this stranger was making out with Sawyer or the way Jack was just standing there, watching blankly. 

Al waved his cigar-wielding hand in front of Jack’s face to no avail. “I don’t know, but I think their minds may have merged again. It happens sometimes. Uh, Sam?” He cleared his throat loudly. 

Sam stiffened in Sawyer’s arms. He had no idea how he had ended up there. One minute he’d been sitting on the other side of the room and the next a longing so powerful it had made him want to scream had surged through him and he’d started moving without being fully aware of where he was going or why. All he knew was that he had to so *something* to make the aching feeling go away. ‘Damnit, Jack!’ 

Sawyer pulled back and smiled at him. “Well, that was nice. Any particular reason?” 

“No,” Sam practically squeaked. 

Sawyer ran a thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I like it. Just try to save it for when there aren’t any pryin’ eyes around.” He jerked his head backward gently to indicate the Dharma Initiative in general. 

“Right.” Sam twisted free of Sawyer’s arms and shot Jack a glare. Jack just blinked at him, looking confused. 

“I gotta get back,” Sawyer continued. “You should too, before they start wonderin’.” 

“Be right there,” Sam said absently, barely looking at Sawyer as the man left the cabin. He spun on Al. “What just happened?” 

Al was busy punching keys already. “Ziggy thinks Jack had some sort of emotional overload when he saw Romeo out there and some of it...” he made aborted gestures. “Sort of...transferred to you.” 

“Woah,” Hurley mumbled to himself. 

Sam shook his head. “Okay, I’m going to keep trying to get information. Hurley? Stay close. We may need your help. And from now on, call me Jack.” 

Hurley nodded and started for the door. 

“Wait,” Sam blurted as his curiosity nagged at him. “You said Clinton hasn’t been president for eight years. Who is?” 

“Well, it *was* George Bush...” 

Sam frowned. “Didn’t he come *before* Clinton?” 

“I think he means George *W* Bush,” Al supplied. “His son.” 

Hurley waved a hand at Al. “Yeah, that’s it. But it’s an election year, so by the time we get back it should be someone else. My money is on the black guy. What’s his name...Obama! That’s it. Barak Obama.” 

At the word “black”, Sam felt his legs go weak. He dropped into his chair as an entirely different wave of emotion washed over him, bringing tears to his eyes. All of those leaps he’d spent living as black men – and one woman. All of that time spent fighting for equality from both sides of the line. He remembered the shock and outrage when he – Jesse Tyler – had dared merely sit at the counter of a diner. He remembered standing on a truck bed with a noose around his neck next to Nathaniel Simpson – a man condemned to death simply for being a black man in the South – feeling the truck’s engine rumble and waiting for the Klan member at the wheel to put it into gear. Waiting to die. It had all felt so futile, trying to change people who just couldn’t – or wouldn’t - be changed. Knowing now that all that time, somewhere in America there had been a little boy who would one day grow up to be the first black president of the United States...it helped make all or those struggles seem more worthwhile. 

“What happened,” Hurley asked, looking alarmed by Sam’s outburst. He turned to Al, who was supporting an equally emotional Jack and smiling proudly. 

“You’re talking to one of the great unknown heroes of the civil rights movement,” Al said. 

“Oh.” Hurley looked apologetic. “Well, I could be wrong. It could also be Hillary Clinton.” 

A sharp, emotional burst of laughter came from Sam as his memory shifted to playing Margaret Sanders and being pushed around and treated like a particularly stupid, unruly child for daring question a woman’s place in society. 

“And the women’s lib movement,” Al added. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I think you just made his year.” 

Hurley looked at Sam, laughing and crying and then at Jack, who was catching Sam’s emotional overflow and reacting similarly to Hurley’s revelation without really understanding why. “Okay, uh...I should go see what Floyd wants.” 

Al nodded. “We’ll call you if we need you, kid.” 

Hurley nodded and backed out of the room in a daze. 

“Okay, Sam, I’m gonna let Jack go before Ziggy blows a fuse. 

“Wait,” Sam protested, pulling himself together and slowly standing to face the holographic pair. “I need to talk to him.” He stood in front of Jack, who had already composed himself again. “I need your word that what happened last night won’t happen again.” Jack opened his mouth to reply but Sam barreled on. “I want to help these people. I want to find this bomb and stop it from going off, but I can’t do that if I have to worry about you taking over my body every time Sawyer comes near.” 

Jack’s mouth moved silently. 

“He says he doesn’t know how to,” Al relayed. “He’s not sure how he’s been doing it so far.” 

“Try...try detaching yourself. You’re not here anymore. You’re twenty years in the future. Just...let go and trust me to do what I’m here to do.” 

Jack seemed to debate a moment. Then his mouth moved again. 

“He says he’ll try but he wants you to promise you’ll watch Sawyer’s back.” 

Sam nodded. “I promise,” he vowed sincerely. 

Jack hesitated a moment longer, then nodded to Al. Al patted his arm kindly and punched in the sequence that would open the door to the imaging chamber. 

“Gushie, I’m sending Jack out.” 

When the door opened, Jack turned toward it, disappearing once he let go of Al’s arm. 

“Keep running scenarios,” Sam continued. “I need to know who could possibly want to set that bomb off.” 

Al nodded. “Okay. You keep gathering information.” He stepped through the still-open doorway, tapped a couple buttons and disappeared. 

TBC


	6. So It Begins...

That night, Sam sat on the couch in Sawyer’s cabin writing down every piece of information he had gleaned so far on construction paper he’d stolen from the schoolhouse. It wasn’t much, but he was beginning to get a clearer picture of these people’s lives and how they intertwined. He even had a crude timeline of events stretching from 1954 to 2008 and lists of who belonged in which time period. He was glad they’d brought Hurley in on this – he had proved to be a useful source of information. The only thing Sam didn’t have was a suspect. None of these people seemed to have any reason to want to detonate an atomic bomb. He had to be missing something but he wasn’t sure what. 

“You’re workin’ too hard,” Sawyer observed from where he lay with his head in Sam’s lap, engrossed in a well-worn paperback. “You gonna tell me what that’s all about?” 

Sam paused to take a sip of the Dharma brand boxed wine Sawyer had insisted on serving him. “It’s not important.” 

“I shoulda known givin’ you moppin’ duty wouldn’t keep you outta trouble long,” Sawyer muttered. 

“Is that why you gave me this job? To keep me out of trouble?” 

Sawyer grumbled. “No. I gave you your job ‘cause it was all I had on short notice, but I figured it had to be easier than runnin’ around savin’ people all day.” He reached for his own nearly empty wine glass on the coffee table and finished it in two sips. He set the glass back down and rested his head back in Sam’s lap, closing his eyes. “Didn’t wanna give you a reason to go runnin’ around tryin’ to fix everything and give yourself a heart attack.” 

Sam wasn’t sure if Jack would find that admission sweet or annoying, so he just tucked his data into his makeshift folder and combed his fingers absently through Sawyer’s hair while he finished his glass of wine. “So you did it for my health?” 

Sawyer smirked. “Nope. Mine. I didn’t wanna be worryin’ about you all the damn time.” He reached up to run his fingers along Sam’s arm, tracing – he assumed – one of Jack’s tattoos. “Though I can’t say I haven’t gotten a little kick outta bossin’ you around for a change.” 

Sam smiled. Definitely sweet, though hiding under an annoying front. “More wine?” 

Sawyer snorted. “Nah. It ain’t that good.” 

Sam carefully slipped Sawyer’s head from his lap and reached for his glass. “Then I’ll just take these to the kitchen.” 

Sawyer groaned. “That’s what I mean, Doc. It’s my *house*. You don’t gotta clean it too.” 

“It’s just a couple glasses, Sawyer.” 

“Yeah,” Sawyer grumbled. “Just a couple glasses. Next you’ll be goin’ in all the corners with a feather duster.” 

Sam just smiled at him and backed toward the conjoined kitchen, nearly colliding with Juliet as she came down the hall. “Uh...after you,” he said, gesturing with a wineglass. 

She smiled and stepped into the kitchen ahead of him. “You never did tell me your secret,” she said as she set about getting herself a glass of water. 

Sam blinked at her. “My secret?” 

She pointed toward his abdomen. “Your scar is almost completely faded. Even if I’d had better operating conditions, there’s no way my stitching was that good.” 

Sam glanced down stupidly as he rinsed the glasses. He hadn’t seen a scar, but then he hadn’t taken his shirt of when looking in a mirror. “Maybe you’re better than you thought.” 

The front doorbell rang. “I’ve got it,” Sawyer called. 

“You were walking around the minute the anesthesia wore off,” Juliet continued. “Hiking through the jungle and falling out of a helicopter. You must have torn a few stitches.” 

Sam shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” He turned nervously to face her. She had one eyebrow raised skeptically, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

“You’re different. Since you came back. I know it’s been three years, but...it’s almost like you’re a completely different person.” 

‘You have no idea,’ Sam thought. At least she didn’t seem to have sensed a major difference in him in the last day, just a more general personality shift which, from what he’d heard so far about Jack’s temperamental, extremely A-type behavior was probably an improvement. “Is that a bad thing?” 

She opened her mouth to reply and froze, her attention turning toward the front door, where Sawyer was letting a man Sam only vaguely recognized as one of the original Dharma crew in. 

“Did you talk to Horace,” Sawyer was asking as he closed the door. Sam recognized this name as the man who was the closest thing the Dharma Initiative had to a leader. 

“Not yet,” the man answered. “I figured after three years of working together, I’d give you the benefit of doubt...” 

Sam saw Sawyer’s fist draw back and instinctively moved to stop him. “Sawyer, wait!” 

But he was too late. Sawyer’s fist connected with a meaty smack, sending the man sprawling to the floor. 

Sawyer looked up. “Get some rope.” 

Juliet ran off to do so without question. 

“What did you do,” Sam spluttered. 

“He knows I helped Kate take Ben out to the hostiles.” 

“Ben...” Sam’s photographic memory supplied the information connected with that name in his file. Ben was the “evil bastard” Jack had referred to – a man who had kidnapped Jack in the future and forced him to perform surgery to remove a tumor. He had also inexplicably been a driving force in getting this group of time travelers back here to 1977. 

Sawyer reached for something that had been dropped in the scuffle and tossed it at Sam. “He’s got it on tape.” 

Sam looked at the tape stupidly. It was an old model not intended for use in a personal VCR – not that the cabin had one of those – so he couldn’t play it to get more information if he’d wanted to. “You could have lied...come up with something...this isn’t the answer!” 

“Yeah, well, it’s too late now,” Sawyer grumbled. Juliet returned with a length of rope and handed it to him. “Can’t exactly say *this* was an accident. ‘sides, you just blew my cover.” 

Sam rewound the events of the last few minutes in his head. He’d said Sawyer’s name. He groaned. 

“Forget it. Was bound to happen eventually.” Sawyer tightened the knot around the man’s wrists. “Help me get ‘im in the closet n’ then we can figure out what to do.” 

***** 

Sam paced the floor of the living area restlessly, eyeing the gun Sawyer had left on the kitchen counter. The sun had just come up an hour earlier. Soon somebody was bound to figure out this Phil guy was gone and they hadn’t come up with any good ideas for how to deal with that yet. They had just agreed to take shifts guarding Phil until morning when Sawyer had decided they should gather the rest of their group and talk strategy together. A bomb was going to go off in seven hours or so and now Sam suspected he was watching the situation that would lead to that point develop. 

The imaging chamber opened suddenly and Al, in an almost unusually subdued red shirt and brown slacks, stepped through. “Okay, Sam, I think we might have something...” 

“Al, where have you been?” Sam hissed. 

Al looked startled. “What? What happened?” 

“Oh, not much,” Sam said, voice dripping sarcasm. “It’s just that we’ve got this guy tied up in the closet because he suspects we’re not really with the Dharma Initiative.” 

Al blinked. “What guy?” 

Sam threw up his hands. “Does it matter?” 

“Well, no, not unless his name is Daniel Faraday because Ziggy says there’s an 86% chance *he’s* the guy who’s gonna blow up the island.” 

Sam reeled. “Daniel? The scientist?” 

“Yeah, get this: he’s a quantum physicist who’s been conducting experiments on *time travel*.” 

“Time travel,” Sam repeated dumbly. 

“Yeah. Only he hasn’t figured out a way to get the experiments to work without scrambling the subject’s brain and uh...killing them.” 

“Obviously his mother figured it out.” 

“Yeah, well, you can talk to him about it yourself. He’s headed this way.” 

“What?” 

The doorbell rang before Al could reply. Sam gaped at it, trying to get his mind caught up to this abrupt turn of events. 

Al gestured emphatically toward the door. “Go! Before anybody wakes up!” 

Sam stumbled toward the door and opened it to find a somewhat disheveled looking, bearded man on the porch. 

“How did you do it, Jack? How did you get back here,” he demanded, pushing past Sam into the house. 

Sam stared at Miles, who crept in behind Daniel. 

“Don’t look at me,” Miles said defensively. “I just drove him here.” 

Sam closed the door behind them. “Keep your voices down. Sawyer and Juliet are still sleeping.” 

“How did you get here,” Daniel repeated insistently. 

Sam tried to recall the sequence of events Jack and Hurley had described – a difficult task as he was more concerned at the moment with the other occupants of the cabin. “Um...we got on a plane...” 

Understanding flashed on Daniel’s face immediately. “Who told you to get on a plane?” 

“Go ahead, tell him,” Al urged. 

“As a matter of fact, it was your mother, Daniel.” 

Daniel seemed to deflate a little. “Let me guess. She told you this was your destiny.” 

Sam glanced at Al, who nodded. “Uh, yeah. She did.” 

“Well, I’ve got bad news for you, Jack. She was wrong. You’re not supposed to be here at all.” 

Daniel brushed past Sam on his way back out the door without another word, Miles trailing after him. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” Sam followed them outside, where they climbed into a waiting Jeep. “What do you mean we’re not supposed to be here?” 

“I’ll be right back, I just have to run an errand,” Daniel called absently while Miles started the truck. 

The pair drove off, leaving Sam standing by the dirt path. 

“Jack.” 

Sam spun to find a worried-looking Sawyer standing in the doorway, silently demanding an explanation. 

“Daniel Faraday’s back.” 

Sawyer blinked, looking after the now-vanished Jeep and then back at Sam. “What’d he want?” 

Sam rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know.” He glanced at Al from the corner of his eye. His friend looked just as at a loss as he was. “Follow him, Al,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Huh? Oh, sure...” Al fired up his handlink with a beep. “Gushie, center me on Daniel!” A moment later, he disappeared. 

Sam went back up the porch steps and past Sawyer into the house. “We need to do something about Phil before somebody notices he’s missing.” 

Sawyer closed the door and caught Sam’s wrist in one smooth movement, spinning him around. “Hey, settle down.” He cupped Sam’s chin in his other hand and forced their eyes to meet. “Let me handle it.” 

Sam’s eyes darted to the hallway as Juliet – obviously just woken up by all the noise – poked her head around the corner. “Fine,” he agreed. 

Sawyer relaxed a little and rubbed Sam’s cheek with his thumb. “Good. Now, you go get Kate ‘fore she goes to work. Jules and I’ll round up Hugo and Jin. We’ll meet you back here.” 

Sam nodded. He would have preferred to follow Daniel, but as long as Al was keeping an eye on him he could focus on one crisis at a time. If Ziggy was right, the bomb wouldn’t go off for another few hours. “Okay.” 

 

TBC


	7. Ripples

Daniel was alone, riding some sort of crude looking elevator to an underground cave when Al appeared beside him. 

“Good, you’re nowhere near the bomb yet,” the Admiral said aloud to no one. “Now we just have to figure out why you’d want to set it off and then we can figure out how to end this crazy leap.” 

Daniel snapped the notebook of formulas and equations he’d been studying shut as the elevator stopped. He stepped out into a working construction site. Sparks flew from machinery near the far wall and workers with hard hats milled around everywhere. One appeared to be having a heated discussion with an Asian man in a lab coat a few yards away.

“You’re going to do nothing,” the Asian man snapped. “If you drill even a centimeter further, you risk releasing that energy. If that were to happen...then God help us all.” 

“Uh oh,” Al muttered. 

A passing worker snapped at Daniel to put a hat on and he grabbed one from a nearby shelf before making his way across the narrow bridge toward the arguing pair. Al followed, floating next to the bridge over a sharp drop. They both hesitated as a man was carried past on a stretcher, unconscious and with blood covering the lower half of his face. 

“Did you hear that,” the worker the lab coat had been talking to asked Daniel. “Time travel. How stupid does that guy think we are?” 

Al gaped at the man. “Time...” He almost missed Daniel darting off after the man in the lab coat. Al punched a couple buttons in his hand link and zipped over beside them instantly. 

“I just came in on the sub with the Swan team,” Daniel was saying. “We actually met three years ago. I’m Daniel Faraday.” 

“Yes, yes, you arrived with LaFleur,” the doctor said impatiently. “I remember. What can I do for you?” 

“You can have his head checked,” Al grumbled. “It might save us some time.” 

“I need you to order the evacuation of every man, woman and child on this island,” Daniel replied. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because,” Daniel said grimly. “That man is on a stretcher as a consequence of the electromagnetic activity that your drilling unleashed down here.” 

The doctor looked unsettled and moved toward the elevator. “Which is now contained.” 

Daniel followed the man and Al, bewildered by this development, called to the project programmer “Keep me centered on Daniel, Gushie!” His surroundings shifted abruptly and he found himself inside the elevator, practically on top of – or rather through – the two men in the tiny space. 

“It’s contained down *here*,” Daniel argued. “But in about six hours, the same thing is gonna happen at the site of the Swan station, only the energy there is about 30,000 times more powerful, sir. And the accident...it’s gonna be catastrophic.” 

Al gaped at Daniel as the full import of his words sunk in. Six hours was roughly the amount of time Ziggy had figured they had left until the bomb went off. “You’re not going to set off a bomb. You’re trying to stop it...” 

“That is utterly absurd,” the doctor scoffed. “What could possibly qualify you to make that kind of prediction?” 

“It was you,” Al muttered as another thought occurred to him. “You told those people to bury the bomb.” 

“I’m from the future,” Daniel said slowly, cautiously. 

“Electromagnetic...” Al shook himself. “Gushie! Center me on Sam!” 

Al’s surroundings shifted abruptly and he found himself back in Sawyer and Juliet’s cabin. This time, the rest of their group of infiltrators were seated in the living room. 

“This is our home,” Sawyer was saying. “Last thing I wanna do is leave. But we ain’t got no choice.” 

“Don’t look at me,” Al snapped at Hurley, who was gaping at him curiously. “I’m not here!” 

Hurley looked away quickly, focusing on some spot on the living room rug. 

“How much time do we have before someone realizes he’s gone,” Kate asked. 

Sawyer shook his head. “Not enough.” 

“Sam, we need to talk. I think we might have been wrong about Daniel.” 

Sam glanced at Al helplessly. He couldn’t just excuse himself from this conversation without being conspicuous. He cleared his throat. “So what are our options?” 

“We can either commandeer the sub, get the hell off this island ‘fore anyone knows we’re gone,” Sawyer answered. “Or we can head back in the jungle n’ start from square one.” 

“You’ve gotta stay close to Daniel,” Al answered at almost the same time. “Whatever you do. I just heard him talking to this guy about a very powerful electromagnetic ‘incident’.” He made surreptitious explosion gestures while Hurley was distracted talking to Sawyer. “Now Ziggy thinks you’re here to help him stop it.” 

“Right,” Sawyer was saying. “That’s two votes for square one. Anybody else...” 

A knock at the door brought the discussion to an abrupt halt. Sawyer grabbed his gun and went to answer it. 

Hurley leaned across the arm of the sofa to whisper to Sam. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s okay, it’s Daniel,” Al said. 

“I’m not sure,” Sam replied, realizing that Hurley was not actually asking about their current visitors. 

“Jack.” 

Sam looked up to see Daniel standing in the living room entryway. 

“I’m sorry if I was rude before, but what I came to do is of critical importance to everyone in this room. Does anyone know where I can find the hostiles?” 

“Why do you need to know that, Daniel,” Juliet asked while everyone was still processing the question. 

“Because one of them is my mother. And she is the only person on this island who can get us back to where we belong.” 

Sam gaped at Al, who looked just as surprised by this information. 

“You mean back...to the future, right,” Hurley asked. 

Daniel nodded. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” 

“Your mother...is an Other,” Sawyer reiterated slowly. 

“You met her actually. When the island was skipping? Back in 1954.” 

“He’s right,” Al added, consulting Ziggy. “Her name’s Eloise and technically...she hasn’t given birth to him yet.” He scratched his head, frustrated. 

“You still haven’t told us why you need to find her,” Juliet pressed. 

“I just need to talk to her.” 

“I thought you said we were supposed to lay low,” Sawyer added. “Whatever happened happened.” 

“Please, just tell me where they are, I’ll –“ 

“I’m not tellin’ you anything and you ain’t goin’ nowhere unless you wanna share with us what the hell it is you’re doin’.” 

“Sawyer...he said he could get us back where we belong. Whether we get on a sub or go into the jungle we’re still here in 1977,” Sam interrupted quietly. 

“Sam, what are you doing,” Al cautioned. 

Sam gave Al a warning look. ‘I know what I’m doing. I think.’ “He’s right, we don’t belong here.” He turned to Kate. “You took Ben out to the hostiles. Can you get us back out there?” 

Sawyer sputtered. “No, wait a second. You don’t really think helpin’ HG Wells here talk to his mommy’s gonna help us get back where we belong?” 

“Do you have any better ideas,” Sam snapped. 

Sawyer opened his mouth but never got a chance to reply. 

“The code for the fence is 141717,” Juliet blurted, a determined look on her face. “You should take Daniel. It’s over here for us anyway.” 

Sawyer gave her a withering look. 

Kate looked back and forth between Sawyer and Juliet and nodded, a similar look of determination coming over her features. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

******* 

“It’s just a couple miles in,” Kate directed after disarming the sonic fence surrounding the Dharma compound. 

Daniel nodded and brushed past her, heading in the direction she had pointed. 

“You think he knows what he’s doing,” she asked Sam in a low voice. 

“I hope so,” he muttered. 

She set her jaw and plodded along behind Daniel, her pistol at ready by her hip. 

“I know I told you to stay close to Daniel, but this isn’t exactly what I meant,” Al muttered, appearing suddenly at Sam’s side. 

“What’s Ziggy saying?” 

“Well, now that we know this island is sitting on a giant pocket of electromagnetic energy she’s pretty sure *that* was the source of the explosion in the original history, not a bomb.” 

“And it’s still going to go off?” 

Al consulted his hand link and sighed. “The odds went up to 93%.” 

“Up? How can the odds have gone up? I thought Daniel knew how to stop it!” 

Al glowered. “Well, did you ask him how he was going to do that?” 

Sam grunted. “No.” 

Al tapped his temple in a gesture Sam always took as a comment on his wisdom. “Maybe he never intended to stop it. Did you think about that? He told that doctor with the Dharma Initiative to evacuate everyone off the island.” 

“So why are we going to find his mother?” 

Al shrugged. “She’s not with the Dharma Initiative. Maybe he needs to convince her and the other ‘hostiles’ to leave himself.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he need to convince her? If she hasn’t given birth to him yet she obviously got away somehow.” 

Al’s steps faltered as he thought about that one. “That’s true.” 

They stopped by a stream and Daniel checked the pistol Kate had given him. 

“You need a gun to go talk to your mother,” Kate asked skeptically. 

“You don’t know my mother,” Daniel grumbled. 

“So are you going to tell me what we’re doing here,” Sam tried. “Why don’t we belong here?”

Daniel sighed heavily and sat on a rock. Sam glanced back at Al and slowly did the same. 

“In a little over four hours, the Dharma folks at the Swan work site,” he began. “They’re gonna drill into the ground and accidentally tap into a massive pocket of energy. The result of the release of this energy will be catastrophic.” 

Sam looked to Al. 

“We already ran it by Ziggy,” Al said grimly. “Even if you tried to stop them, it wouldn’t work.” 

“So in order to contain it,” Daniel continued. “They’re gonna have to cement the entire area in – like Chernobyl. And this containment, the place they built over it, you called it the hatch. The Swan hatch.” 

Kate looked at Sam, her eyes alight with wary recognition. 

“Because of this one accident these people are gonna spend the next twenty years keeping that energy at bay by pressing a button. A button that your friend Desmond will one day fail to push. And that will cause your plane – Oceanic 815 – to crash on this island. And because your plane crashed, a freighter will be sent to this island – the freighter that I was on and Charlotte was on and so forth. This entire chain of events, it’s gonna start happening this afternoon. But we can change that. I’ve studied relativistic physics my entire life and one thing emerged over and over. You can’t change the past.” 

“Wanna bet,” Al grumbled. 

“But then, I finally realized, I had been spending so much time focused on the constants I forgot about the variables. And do you know what the variables in this equation are, Jack?” 

“Us,” Sam said quietly. 

Daniel looked surprised by his answer. Probably because Jack was a spinal surgeon, not a physicist, but he seemed invigorated by this response. “That’s right. People. We think, we reason, we make choices. We have free will. We can change our destiny. I think I can negate that energy. Under the Swan. I think I can destroy it. If I can then that hatch will never be built and your plane...your plane will land, just like it’s supposed to, in Los Angeles.” 

“And just how exactly do you plan on destroying this energy,” Kate asked after a moment of stunned silence. 

“I’m going to detonate a hydrogen bomb.” 

Kate’s eyes went wide. 

“Sam, the odds just went up to 95%.” The handlink squawked and Al’s voice became increasingly panicked. “97%...” 

“That’s why I need to talk to my mother,” Daniel admitted. “I told her to bury it in 1954. She knows where it is.” 

“Won’t that kill everyone,” Kate asked, alarmed. 

“Not if we can convince Dr. Chang to evacuate the island,” Daniel said matter of factly. He looked at his watch. “We don’t have much time. We should go.” 

Sam nodded and stood, Kate warily following him. 

“Sam, what are you doing,” Al demanded. “Sam!” 

Sam walked away from Al without so much as a glance backward, following Daniel through the jungle. 

“Oh, this is not good,” Al muttered to himself. He chased after Sam, falling into step beside him. “Sam, your mind must be merging with Jack’s again.” 

Sam’s steps faltered as he turned his head to look directly at Al. “No, it isn’t.” 

“What,” Kate asked from behind him. 

Sam turned to her. “Uh...just thinking out loud.” 

Al spluttered. “Then why the hell are you going along with this yahoo’s crazy plan?” 

“Trust me,” Sam mouthed as Kate quickened her pace to come up alongside him. 

“This is insane,” she said. “He wants to erase everything that’s happened to us.” 

Al gestured toward her. “Thank you! Listen to the woman, Sam.” 

“Where were you in 1977,” Sam asked. 

Kate blinked. “Iowa. I was two years old.” 

“Okay, well, that hasn’t changed. You’re still in Iowa and I’m still in Los Angeles. And one day we’re both going to get on a plane and end up here. We’re caught in a time loop. What if...what if we weren’t supposed to come here? If Daniel is right, we could break that time loop and it will be like this whole thing never happened.” 

Kate went silent. Al fumed. 

“And what if you’re both wrong? Huh? If you die here, Jack’s gonna be stuck in 1999 living the rest of his life as Sam Beckett.” 

“The Dharma Initiative are onto us and I don’t know about you but I don’t think they’re above killing traitors,” Sam argued, still turned toward Kate but addressing Al as well. “We can try to wait for them to come after us...or we can take a chance that Daniel is right. This may be our only chance to set things right. This may be what sends us home. What do we have to lose?” 

“Sends you...” Al’s eyes widened. “You think this is gonna get you to leap home.” 

Sam’s eyes slid toward him and he nodded subtly. 

“But you...” Al hesitated. “And...” He groaned and massaged his forehead. “I have to go run some things past Ziggy. Just don’t do anything until I get back.” He punched a couple buttons and disappeared. 

TBC


	8. Eloise

Sam, Kate and Daniel arrived at the edge of a campsite a couple minutes later. 

“Wish me luck,” Daniel said and went ahead down the hill toward the nearest tent without another word, his pistol held loosely by his side. 

“Wait,” Sam whispered, moving to grab him. He was already too far away. 

“No, let him go,” Kate whispered, grabbing for Sam’s arm. 

Sam clenched his jaw and squatted beside Kate, gun drawn, watching warily as Daniel crept toward the “hostiles” camp. He didn’t like standing by and doing nothing. He knew there had to be something he could do, but without more information he wasn’t sure what. 

“Jack, you realize he’s crazy,” Kate murmured. 

Sam sighed. “He’s not crazy. Suicidal, maybe...but what if he’s right? What if this is what I’m...what *we’re* here to do? What if this is our chance to put things right?” 

Before Kate could say anything two gunshots ripped through the air, making them both jump. 

Sam looked down the hill to see Daniel crumple to the ground. “No,” he moaned. He moved to get up, but Kate grabbed him, tugging him back away from the campsite. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“They shot him...” 

“They’re gonna shoot you too! We have to go!” 

“She’s right, Sam.” 

Sam jumped as Al appeared suddenly, looking haggard. “I’m sorry, Sam. We didn’t see it coming,” he admitted. 

“Now!” Kate dragged him back and they staggered out onto a dirt path running beside the treeline. 

Before they could get any further two men appeared on horseback, riding straight for them. Sam was still gaping at them stupidly, wondering if this island could get any more bizarre, when one of the riders rounded on him and slammed the butt of a rifle into his face. The second, younger rider jumped from his horse and waved his rifle in Kate’s face before she could go to him, snarling “don’t move!” 

Sam rolled to his hands and knees, shaking his head to ward off dizziness. 

“Sam, look out,” Al barked as the first rider dismounted and headed straight for him. 

Sam pushed himself up onto his knees and arched his back, narrowly avoiding the kick the man aimed at his ribs. He spun away from the kick, jumping to his feet and kicking the man’s other leg out from under him in one smooth movement. He landed in a fighting stance, hands raised in front of him. The man responded by pulling a pistol out from somewhere in a move so fast Sam couldn’t quite follow it. Sam clenched his jaw and slowly raised his hands in defeat, easing into an upright position while the man scrambled to stand up. 

“Who the bloody hell are you,” the man snarled angrily. 

“Don’t tell them anything, Sam,” Al warned. 

The second man wrenched Sam’s arms behind him, tying his wrists together roughly. Sam glanced at Kate, whose hands were already tied and who was looking at him with a confused expression. He shook his head subtly. 

The man with the pistol slammed the butt of it into Sam’s temple. 

“Hey,” Al yelped even though nobody but Sam could hear it. 

“We should take them back. See if Richard recognizes them,” the second man said. 

The first man grunted and spun Sam around, jamming the pistol in his back and prodding him down the dirt path. “Move.” 

“Ziggy says this guy is Charles Widmore. Jack says he faked a plane crash in the future so nobody would come looking for survivors and find this place.” 

“Where did you learn to fight like that,” Kate asked as she was pushed into step beside Sam. 

Sam ripped his attention from Al. “Huh? Oh...boy scouts.” 

She looked even more confused. “You never told me you were a boy scout.” 

Sam pursed his lips and remained silent as they were pushed into the camp, a couple yards away from Daniel’s body. Widmore broke away to go talk to the man and woman standing over Daniel. 

“Is that Richard,” Sam asked absently, nodding to the exotic looking man. 

“Yes,” Al and Kate both answered automatically. “And the woman is Daniel’s mother,” Al added. 

The woman’s eyes locked on Sam. “Did you come here with this man,” she called. 

Sam looked at Kate, who looked stunned, and nodded. “Yes.” 

“Put them in my tent,” Eloise told the thuggish man behind them, who shoved them into said tent without question, pushing a little too roughly. 

Sam felt a jolt go through his knees as he hit the ground. Kate let out a distressed yelp as she was dropped none too gently a few feet away. 

“Hey, take it easy,” Sam protested. 

The man spun, his boot crashing into Sam’s face before he had time to duck. “Don’t talk,” he growled. 

“You nozzle,” Al snarled directly into the man’s face. 

Completely unaware of the bolts of fire Al was shooting at him, the man turned and left the tent. 

“Are you okay,” Kate asked. 

Sam spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, making Al wince. “Yeah.” 

“Sam, Ziggy says the odds of the bomb going off just dropped to practically zero, but...” he sighed. “The EMP is still going to go off, which will amount to practically the same thing.” 

“And I’m still here, which means I can’t have come here to stop the bomb,” Sam hissed. 

“What,” Kate called from the other side of the tent. 

“The EMP is going to go off no matter what I do,” Sam continued, ignoring her. “The incident Daniel was talking about – it happened. It is going to happen. What if I’m not supposed to *stop* him from detonating the bomb? What if I’m supposed to make sure it goes off?” 

“Jack, who are you talking to,” Kate asked, becoming alarmed. 

Sam turned to her, sitting carefully on a low stool on his side of the tent. “How many people have died since we crashed here?” 

From the flicker of pained sadness in her eyes he guessed the answer was more than a couple. 

“If we do what Daniel said, our plane will never crash and they’ll still be alive. We could change our past. Wipe it clean.” 

“And what about us? We all just go on living our lives because we’ve never met,” Kate argued. 

“She has a point, Sam.” 

Sam opened his mouth – not entirely sure what he was going to say to that – but Eloise chose that moment to come into the tent. 

“The man I shot,” she began, addressing Sam. “What did he need the bomb for?” 

Sam blinked at her, his mouth snapping firmly shut. He wasn’t about to tell her anything until he knew where she stood. 

She looked at the diary in her hand – the same one Daniel had been carrying earlier – and flipped through the pages absently. “I need you to tell me why he needed the bomb,” she said almost numbly. 

“I don’t think you’d believe me,” Sam said finally. 

Eloise squatted beside him. “When I was 17 years old, I took a young man to the bomb. He proceeded to tell me that if we buried it underground then things would work out splendidly. When I asked him how he could be so sure he said that he was from the future. And then he disappeared. Right in front of my bloody eyes.” Her voice broke as tears formed in her eyes. “Ten minutes ago, I shot that man in the back. And before he...died, he told me that he...” She blinked. “He said he was my son. Explain to me, and you have my word I will believe you.” She waved the open diary in front of Sam’s face. “How is this my handwriting if I don’t remember writing it?” 

Sam looked down at the page Eloise was showing him. In an elegant script, it said “no matter what, remember than I will always love you. Mother.” 

“Uh, Sam,” Al said somberly, consulting his device. “Judging by Daniel’s birthdate...she’s two months pregnant.” 

Sam looked at the woman who had just unknowingly killed the son she had yet to give birth to and felt a pang of sympathy. “Because you haven’t written it yet. Look, I know this might be difficult to understand right now, but what just happened...it was an accident. And I think there’s a way we can fix it.” 

“Jack,” Kate cut in. 

“Sam,” Al said warningly at the same moment. 

Eloise held up a hand without looking back at Kate, silencing her. “What?” 

“Your son came back here because he’d found a way to fix everything. He doesn’t have to be dead – you don’t have to have killed him. He wrote his plan in that journal. If we follow it, none of this will have happened.” 

Eloise, looking stunned and somewhat alarmed, finally turned to address Kate. “Does he know what he’s talking about?” 

Kate stared at the far wall of the tent. “He thinks he does,” she murmured, her voice flat, resigned. 

Eloise looked back and forth between the two captives, then down at the journal filled with scientific formulas in her future son’s messy scrawl. She nodded. “All right then. I’ll take you to the bomb.” 

 

TBC


	9. Saying Goodbye

Previously on Quantum Lost: 

“All right then. I’ll take you to the bomb.” 

*******   
(2 1/2 hours later) 

“Is that a bomb,” Miles yelped, looking at the hydrogen core poking from Sayid’s open backpack. 

Sam was too busy trying to keep Sayid from bleeding out all over the back of the stolen Dharma van to answer him. Kate had abandoned him long ago, after accusing him of going completely insane and trying to kill them all. Al had disappeared shortly thereafter. Sayid had wandered out of the jungle shortly after that – looking better than a man who had spent at least a day wandering the jungle had any right to look – and volunteered his help with Sam’s mission. “If this works, you might just save us all,” he’d said. “And if it doesn’t, at least you will put us out of our misery.” 

They had almost made it out of the cave and through the Dharma compound that, much to everyone’s dismay, had been built over the cave before being recognized. Sayid’s warning that he was carrying a nuclear device had not dissuaded an armed Dharma Initiative employee from shooting him. 

“What’s going on back there?” Hurley craned his head around from the driver’s seat. 

“Just keep your eyes on the damned road,” Miles barked at him. 

“I don’t know where we’re going!” 

Sam recalled the name of the place Daniel had said the EMP would originate from. “The Swan site!” 

Hurley frowned at him in the rear view mirror and Sam vaguely wondered if he could still see through the aura or if – like Sam – he saw Jack’s face in the reflection. “Why do you wanna go there? Sayid’s been shot...” 

Sam met his eyes. “If you wanna save Sayid, then take us to the Swan site.” 

“So, what, this bomb is supposed to blow us back in time,” Miles asked. 

Sam rolled his eyes inwardly. He was getting tired of explaining how time travel worked. “No, we’re not going back in time, we’re just changing the time stream.” 

Miles blinked. “Okay...sure.” 

Sam looked back down to find Sayid looking up at him calmly, his expression almost serene. “You can’t stop the bleeding,” he said. “I need to modify the bomb. I can make it so it detonates on impact. Jack, we need to be there at the moment of the incident or all of this will be for nothing.” 

Before Sam could reply, the van lurched to a sudden stop. “Why are we stopping?” 

Hurley, still gripping the wheel, wide-eyed, pointed silently through the windshield. Kate had returned, but this time she had reinforcements. Sawyer and Juliet stood beside her, each looking like they’d been in a fistfight recently. The three of them blocked the narrow dirt path. 

Sam grabbed Sayid’s hand and pressed it over the wad of clothing covering his abdominal wound. “Keep pressure on that.” Then he scrambled to open the van door. 

Sawyer met him before he was all the way out of the vehicle and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him toward the tree line. “We gotta talk,” he growled. 

“Sawyer, we don’t have time to...” 

“Five minutes,” Sawyer snapped. He yanked Sam into a clearing a safe distance from the van and whirled on him. “What the hell’re you tryin’ to do?” 

Sam winced as he got a closer look at Sawyer’s wounds. “What happened to your face?” He reached toward Sawyer, who bat his hand away angrily. 

“Damnit, Jack, don’t you start playin’ doctor now.” 

“I *am* a doctor.” 

“Yeah, well, you sure as hell coulda fooled me. Didn’t realize that oath you doctors have to take covered blowin’ up a whole damned island.” 

“I can explain...” 

“Don’t bother. Kate already told me. Said you think comin’ here was a mistake and you wanna fix it so we never crashed on this rock.” He ran his hands through his hair, his face twisted in disbelief and frustration. “What the hell did you screw up so bad the first time around you’re willin’ to blow up a damned nuke just for a second chance?” 

“That’s not what this is about.” 

“Well, what is it about then?” 

Sam hesitated. Honestly, he wasn’t sure. Whenever Ziggy couldn’t give him clear right or wrong choices he usually just followed his gut. “Because it’s why I’m here. It’s what I’m supposed to do.” 

Sawyer stared at him with an unreadable expression. “So, what, it’s fate that brought you back here? This’s your destiny?” 

Sam nodded uncertainly. “Something like that.” 

Sawyer grabbed him by the upper arms suddenly and pushed him back against the nearest tree. “I don’t speak destiny,” he said in a low growl, his face close enough for Sam to feel his breath. “What I *do* understand is a man does what he does ‘cause he wants somethin’ for himself. What do you want, Jack?” 

Sam blinked at him in stunned silence and wondered if maybe he was right. Was Sam really trying to fix whatever had gone wrong in Jack’s life or had he lost the ability to remain objective when he saw a possible way to get home? 

Sawyer’s tone changed suddenly and his left hand came up to cradle Sam’s cheek. “If what you’re doin’ even works...you and me’ll be strangers. Is that what you want?” 

Kate had said as much before but this time Sam had an answer ready. “You won’t remember, but J...*I* will.” 

Sawyer’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “How can you be so sure?” 

“I can’t explain how I know, you just have to trust me. I *will* remember this. I will remember you. And I will find you.” 

When the people Sam leapt into went back to their own time they always had some memory of the leap. Usually they assumed it was just a dream or, sometimes, an alien abduction. But Jack was different – he was fully aware of where and when he’d gone. Sam had no doubt he would remember Sawyer. And from what he knew of his host’s personality, he felt confident Jack would not give up until he got Sawyer back, no matter where they ended up. 

“Whatever was meant to be *will* happen. And this...” Sam pressed a hand to Sawyer’s chest. “I know this was meant to be.” 

Sawyer stared at him silently, his nostrils flaring a little with his deep, ragged breaths. “I guess I can’t say nothin’ that’s gonna change your mind, huh?” 

Sam shook his head firmly. “No.” 

Sawyer’s posture relaxed a little in defeat and he nodded. “Okay then,” he said slowly. Then he kissed Sam, holding his head firmly between his hands. 

Sam tried instinctively to pull away, hearing muffled noises of distress spilling from his lips, which he could feel bruising already with the force of the kiss. He brought his hands up to push Sawyer back, but they ended up tangled in the man’s hair instead and he found himself kissing back. He had a moment’s alarm as he realized his body was acting independently of his mind’s command. Then he understood. 

Jack. 

The world rotated for a moment and Sawyer seemed to disappear. Sam stumbled, thrown off balance by the shift, and blinked at his new surroundings. He gasped as he recognized the waiting room’s stark white walls and sparse furnishings. It couldn’t really be that simple, could it? He was pretty sure he hadn’t leapt. 

He looked down at his body and cursed, only slightly startled by the unfamiliar voice that reached his ears. ‘Not *my* ears,’ he mentally corrected. ‘Jack’s’. 

He pushed up the sleeve on his white turtleneck to find the brightly colored tattoo he had spied in the mirror his first night. 

“Oh boy,” he moaned. “This can’t be good.” Unsure of the exact location of the door, he looked up and shouted at the nearest wall. “Al!” 

********* 

Jack panted as Sawyer broke the kiss, leaning his head back so their eyes met. 

“I just got you back,” Sawyer murmured absently, his thumb brushing Jack’s bottom lip. 

“I know,” Jack said softly, ignoring the odd tone of the voice that reached his ears. He knew Sawyer wouldn’t hear it. He also knew Sam would be pissed when he found out Jack had hijacked his body again, but Jack didn’t care. Sam would forgive him. 

He pulled Sawyer into a hug, their arms wrapping so tightly around each other they barely had room for breath. “I’ll find you,” he vowed firmly. “No matter what it takes. You won’t lose me again.” 

Sawyer just grunted and buried his face in Jack’s neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Hey.” Jack twined his fingers in Sawyer’s hair and pulled his head up until their eyes met. “Trust me. This is going to work. And when our plane lands in Los Angeles I will find you. I’ll follow you all the way to Tennessee if I have to.” 

“Y’know I won’t remember. I didn’t even *like* you when we first met.” 

“I didn’t like you either. But it took us three years to get here.” He tucked a lock of hair behind Sawyer’s ear and smiled sadly. “I don’t care if it takes three more. I’ll wait.” 

Sawyer hesitated a moment, then kissed Jack again. Jack leaned into it this time, kissing back just as harshly, as if he could imprint this intimate moment on his mind so indelibly it would be impossible for him to forget – no matter what happened on the journey back through time. Besides, he didn’t know when he would ever get a chance to touch Sawyer like this again. 

After minutes that felt entirely too short, Sawyer pulled away and stared at Jack, tracing his lower lip with one thumb. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment, then nodded firmly. 

“I trust you.” 

******** 

After a few moments of disorientation, Jack found his way to the worksite that would one day be the Swan Station. He crouched behind a tree and toyed briefly with the idea of setting the bomb off himself. 

No, he decided. Sam knew what he was doing. And if what Al said was right, this mission would fix everything. All of them – *including* Sam – would go back to their own time where they rightfully belonged. He couldn’t take that away from Sam. Besides, he had no idea what would happen if the bomb went off and his mind was stuck in Sam’s body in 1977.

He watched the Dharma Initiative employees – some familiar, some less so – milling around the site and almost jumped out of his skin when Kate appeared suddenly beside him. 

“Hey,” she whispered, her expression guarded. Jack wondered if she knew, on some level, that a stranger had taken over his body in the last couple days. 

“Hey.” A question he’d been meaning to ask her before sprang to the forefront of his mind suddenly and he realized if he didn’t ask her now he might never get another chance. “Why did you make me promise not to ask about Aaron?” 

She was visibly thrown by the question, as she had every right to be. But, he figured, Aaron *was* his nephew, or, at least, his half-nephew. He had a right to know why Kate had suddenly given up custody. She blinked back tears and looked away for a moment. “Because,” she finally choked. “I was...*so* angry with you for making me come back here.” 

It sounded like a weak excuse, but...well, Jack *had* pretty much dragged her down this road with him ever since he started calling her in a stoned out haze and yammering about going back to the island. “Is he why you came back?” 

“I came back so he can be where he belongs,” she said firmly, the rationale well-practiced in her mind. “With his mother.” 

Jack turned toward her with renewed purpose. “If this works, Claire will never come to the island and they will be together just the way they were meant to be,” he said pointedly. 

Kate shook her head, her eyes hardening. “She was gonna give him up for adoption...” 

“You don’t know what she would do,” Jack interrupted. “And whatever it is, it would be *her* choice. If you want to save Claire, this is the only way to do it. And nothing - *nothing* - in my life has ever felt so right.” He swallowed, trying to reign in the emotion coloring his voice. “This is going to work, Kate. I need you to believe that.” 

When Jack had first heard about Daniel’s plan and Sam’s intentions he had nearly taken Al’s head off. But he had come to see the logic in it. This was the only option left that made sense. Everything that had happened since they chose to come back had led them toward this one endgame. It was the only way out – the only way to put right everything that had gone wrong. 

A shout brought their attention back to the Dharma employees down the hill. Smoke was billowing from the drill site and people were running back and forth shouting commands. 

“It’s about to happen,” Jack murmured. He scrambled upright and grabbed Kate by the arms, ducking slightly to meet her wide- eyed gaze. “Are you with me on this?” 

Kate hesitated. Then her lips pursed together and she nodded firmly. “Yes.” 

******* 

They returned to the clearing where the rest of their group huddled around the stolen Dharma van. Jack suppressed the instinctive panic he felt at the sight of Sayid slumped against the vehicle, pale and slowly bleeding out. There was nothing he could do about it, he reminded himself. If the plan worked, Sayid would never have to put himself in the path of the bullet in the first place. If it didn’t...well, they would all be dead soon anyway. 

He knelt beside Sayid, eyeing the bulging backpack beside him, guessing it must hold the bomb. “We were just on a ridge where we could look down into the Swan site. Something just happened. They hit something. It’s time for me to go.” 

Sayid nodded weakly and looked at the backpack. “It’s all set to go. Remember: be careful. It’s rigged to explode on impact. According to Faraday’s plan, you must get the bomb as close as you can to the source of electromagnetism.” 

Jack nodded, hoping his half-scrambled brain could hold that information long enough through the time shift to relay it to Al. “Sayid, this is gonna work. And it’ll save you.” 

Sayid looked him in the eyes, his expression one of resignation. “Nothing can save me,” he said flatly. 

Jack brushed the comment off. He was wrong. It would save them all. He stood and let Kate help him slide the heavy pack onto his shoulders, taking the gun Hurley proffered and, with a deep breath and what he hoped was a reassuring smile at Kate, setting off toward the Swan site. 

He ran into Sawyer just outside the clearing. Juliet was at his side, a supportive hand on his back. Both looked wary and somber – like inmates awaiting execution. 

Jack reached for Sawyer, catching his forearm and giving a quick squeeze. “I’ll see you in Los Angeles,” he vowed. 

Sawyer swallowed heavily and nodded. 

The world seemed to tilt suddenly and Jack found himself back in the stark white room he’d inhabited for the last two days. Al stood in front of him, a baffled look on his face. 

“Tell Sam I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to say goodbye.” 

 

TBC


	10. EMP

Al found Sam pacing like a caged animal in a small clearing. 

“Sam, you’ve got less than a half an hour before the incident. It looks like Jack got everybody to agree on your plan, which surprised the hell outta us, but...” 

“What if we’ve been wrong all along, Al,” Sam interrupted, coming to a stop in front of Al with his hands on his hips. “What if what I’m doing *causes* the incident I’m supposed to prevent?” 

“Ah, no. Ziggy says in the original history what looked like a bomb was the electromagnetic blast Daniel was talking about. The Dharma Initiative buried the area in concrete and built a station over it with a switch so the energy could be released every hour and a half.” He shrugged. “The button didn’t get pushed in time and the electromagnetism ripped Jack’s plane right out of the sky. Daniel was right.” 

Sam scrubbed his palms over his face. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing, but...since when did detonating a hydrogen bomb qualify as the “right thing”? “Okay, but why me? I mean, if Jack is willing to set the bomb off himself, why am I here? He knows more than I do about these people...this place. What can I do here that he can’t?” 

Al opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I don’t know.” 

Sam groaned. “I should have stopped them from drilling. Then there wouldn’t even *be* an incident to prevent.” 

“If that was the reason you were here, wouldn’t you have leapt into one of the Dharma scientists?” Al tapped his temple pointedly. “If a scientist from the future can’t stop them, what makes you think they’d listen to a surgeon from the future posing as a janitor?” 

Sam sighed heavily. “It would be worth a try.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that now. Whatever it is you’re here to do – it hasn’t happened yet, or you woulda leaped already.” 

Sam started to argue, even though he knew it was futile – Al was right, he never leapt into people at random. Whatever he was here to do, it was something he had to do as *Jack*. Al cut him off. 

“You’ve gotta move fast, Sam. You’ve only got about fifteen minutes left.” 

Sam nodded stiffly and retrieved the handgun from the pocket of his jumpsuit. “Stay with me, Al.” 

Al nodded soberly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here until this is all over.” 

Sam nodded and started across the clearing. Two steps later, he stopped. “Which way am I going?” 

******** 

Five minutes later, Sam crouched behind equipment and vegetation on the edge of the worksite, creeping cautiously closer. “Al, how many of them are there?” 

“Uh...” Al’s eyes roved over the group of Dharma employees crawling over the site. “Too many. And most of them are armed.” 

Sam groaned. “How close do I have to get?” 

“According to the Iraqi back there who rewired it? You have to drop it down that hole where the drill is.” 

“Great,” Sam muttered. “What does Ziggy say the odds are of me doing that *before* they shoot me?” 

Al shrugged helplessly. 

Sam peaked carefully around the machinery concealing him from view. “Okay. Maybe if I just...” 

Before he could finish formulating a strategy for making his way to the drill before anyone noticed, Phil – freed from Sawyer’s closet and looking angrier than ever – shouted and fired a shot from his rifle in Sam’s direction. 

Sam ducked back down, his heart pounding as several more shots flew overhead. “Help me, Al,” he hissed. 

Al winced as bullets tore through his holographic body to imbed harmlessly in the trees. “One o’ clock, two bogies,” he barked. 

Sam sprang upright and fired four shots in the direction Al indicated, barely taking time to aim properly. He didn’t wait to see if the bullets had hit their mark before ducking back for cover. 

“Good, you got one of ‘em,” Al said. 

“Al, this isn’t going to work!” 

Al didn’t seem to hear him – his attention focused on the tree line, where the low rumbling of a motor was approaching. The stolen Dharma van burst from the jungle a moment later and Al instinctively jumped aside to avoid it even though it couldn’t hit him. As it arced around Sam he had just enough time to register Kate leaning out of the passenger window with a pistol and Juliet firing a rifle from the open back door. 

The vehicle lurched to a stop and the two women, plus Miles and Sawyer, darted out, all of them armed and covering each other as they pushed their way closer to the drill, clearing a path for Sam. 

Sam looked to Al, wide-eyed. 

“Go!” Al prompted, waving toward the drill wildly. 

Sam ducked his head and darted toward the drill, trusting Al and Jack’s friends to keep him safe from the rapidly dwindling gunfire. 

The rain of bullets stopped suddenly and Sam heard Sawyer’s voice rise above the noise of the idling machinery. “All right, you can come out now, Doc.” 

“It’s okay, Sam,” Al confirmed. 

Sam glanced at Al, standing next to the still-working drill, and slowly stood up. His eyes caught Sawyer’s and he was momentarily stunned by the steely determination he saw in the Southerner’s expression. He wondered how, exactly, Jack had convinced him of this plan. 

“Hurry up and do it,” Sawyer barked at him before turning to the man who could only be Dr. Chang. “Turn that damn thing off!” 

Dr. Chang eagerly reached for the panel of buttons on the side of the drill, but his efforts to turn it off only seemed to produce an ungodly screech of metal. 

“What’s the matter,” Sawyer demanded. 

A small shower of sparks erupted from the machinery, making Dr. Chang shrink back momentarily. “It won’t shut down!” 

“They hit the pocket,” one of the loudmouth Dharma workers Sam hadn’t gotten the chance to know groaned.  
“This is it, Sam,” Al said nervously. Even though everything that had happened seemed to have led to this moment, the finality of setting off an explosion of such magnitude unsettled him. What if they were wrong about the effect it would have on Sam? On Jack and his people? 

Sam set the backpack down on the ledge built around the drill, setting his gun beside it. He unzipped the pack silently and carefully extracted the hydrogen core, concentrating on keeping his hands steady while the rest of him trembled at the thought of what he had to do next. He held the core out over the gaping abyss and closed his eyes. “Please let this work,” he murmured to whatever deity had seen fit to send him on this crazy mission. 

“Hurry up, Doc,” Sawyer snapped. “What’re you waiting for? Drop it!” 

Sam let the bomb fall from his hands and closed his eyes as it tumbled into the darkness below, bracing himself for the impact and praying he would leap before he felt it. 

“Uh...Sam?” Al said after several long seconds. 

Sam opened his eyes slowly, half expecting to find himself in the waiting room even though he hadn’t felt the tingling and dizziness that usually accompanied a leap. 

“This don’t look like LAX,” he heard Sawyer mutter. 

Sam’s eyes flicked over his unchanged surroundings, his mind racing. “Al, what happened,” he whispered. 

Al looked just as baffled by this turn of events as Sam felt. 

The drill and scaffolding surrounding the drill site groaned and shuddered and Sam took a step back to avoid a burst of steam. The gun he’d left on the ledge trembled and slipped off the ledge down the tunnel below as if pulled by an invisible hand. It was followed immediately by a toolbox someone had left near the drill site. 

“Sam, get back!” 

Sam scrambled backward as the entire scaffolding around the drill twisted and collapsed in on itself, being drawn downward. Sam watched, wide-eyed, as every metal object around the well was sucked in, including a full-sized wheelbarrow. Daniel obviously hadn’t been kidding about the power of the electromagnetic energy at this site. And it was only getting stronger. 

“Sam, look out!” 

Sam ducked instinctively at Al’s warning and saw a thick metal toolbox sail over his head toward the hole. 

“Jack,” Kate yelped. 

“Get back, Kate,” Sam shouted back, scrambling in the direction of her voice. 

“Get away from here,” Sam heard Miles chime in from somewhere nearby. “Get as far away from here as you can!” 

“Over here, Sam,” Al called from somewhere beyond the perimeter of the dig site. 

Sam started to follow him and nearly ran into Juliet, who was standing far too close to the gaping hole for comfort. 

“Run,” he shouted, giving her a push in the direction Al’s voice had come from. 

She nodded absently, already running in a half crouch in the direction he’d indicated, obviously accustomed to following orders quickly and without question. 

Sam started to follow her but something heavy slammed into his stomach, knocking him to the ground. Before he had a chance to figure out what had happened, he felt the object tighten around him and start to drag him backward, toward the well. 

“Al,” he shouted, clawing futilely at the ground. 

“Jack!” Kate appeared suddenly, throwing herself on the ground beside Sam and grabbing a thick metal chain, tugging with all her strength. A moment later, Juliet had returned and grabbed onto the chain as well. Sam realized frantically that the other end of the chain must be wrapped around his waist and the magnetic pull on it was dragging him toward the seemingly bottomless pit. 

He barely had time to understand what was happening before the ground disappeared beneath him. He lashed out, grabbing a metal bar from the still-collapsing framework around the well, straining to pull himself back up to stable ground. He screamed as the chains seemed to tighten even further, pulling him down hard. 

Al’s face appeared in the opening above him, eyes wide with fear. “Sam! Hold on!” 

“I can’t,” Sam yelped frantically. The pull of the magnetic energy was too strong. He strained to hang on, but he knew it was useless. He could feel his hands starting to slip, the chains pulling him down. 

For a moment he was in freefall. Then a hand shot out and grabbed his, stopping him abruptly. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re goin’,” Sawyer growled. 

Sam blinked up at him. Sawyer’s face was already reddening with the effort of holding Sam up, the muscles in his arm quivering. He wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. 

Al appeared suddenly beside Sam, hovering over the void. “Right here, Sam!” He pointed frantically at a spot on the chain near Sam’s right hip. “Grab the end of the chain! Try to loosen it!” 

“Help me get the chains off,” Sawyer yelled as Sam fumbled, one-handed, for the spot Al had indicated. “Hold on,” he called to Sam. 

Kate dangled over the lip of the hole suddenly, Juliet’s arms wrapped around her waist to anchor her, her hands stretching toward the chains. But she was too far away. Her hands clawed uselessly through the air somewhere in the vicinity of Sam’s shoulders. 

“I can’t get it off,” Sam shouted, abandoning his equally unproductive efforts to remove the chains to grip Sawyer with both hands. 

“I’ve got you,” Sawyer vowed, his eyes locked on Sam with determined intensity. 

“Sam, what are you doing?” Al shouted. “You can’t give up! Grab the chain and pull!” 

Sam yelped as the chain cinched just a little tighter. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore and wondered if the last tug had broken his spine. 

“Augh! I can’t reach,” Kate shouted. 

The collapsing metal framework gave a small downward lurch and Sawyer yelled wildly as the movement made Sam slip just a little further into the void, their tenuous connection threatening to break. 

“You hold on,” Sawyer ordered stubbornly. “I got you!” 

“Sam, you have to hurry before this whole place goes!” 

Sam looked at one of the metal beams nearest his head. It was broken almost completely in half by the force of the magnetic pull. He thought suddenly of how a force like this probably ripped the wings right off of Jack’s plane just before it crashed. And then he understood. This was only the *beginning* of the incident they were trying to prevent. They hadn’t been able to stop it from happening at all but it wasn’t over yet. The only thing that could stop it now was at the bottom of the well Sam was dangling over. *This* was why he’d had to take Jack’s place. In order to set things right for all of them, he needed to sacrifice himself. 

Sam’s eyes met with Sawyer’s, his face relaxing as he accepted what had to happen next. “It’s okay,” he said calmly. 

Sawyer’s eyes were already dampening and his voice broke as he begged “don’t you leave me!” 

“Sam, what are you doing?” Al’s voice climbed two octaves in his increasing panic. 

Sam ignored his long time friend. For the next minute, he needed to be Jack Shephard. He focused on Sawyer’s face, letting everything else fall away. “I love you.” 

“No, don’t you let go!” Sawyer’s voice was so desperate...so mournful that Sam felt his heart break in sympathy for his loss. 

“I’ll always love you,” he choked. 

Sawyer began screaming frantically, straining to hold on as Sam started slipping from his vice grip. “No! No, don’t let go!” 

Sam vaguely heard Al screaming frantically in his ear, but he paid no attention. He kept his eyes locked with Sawyer’s as he let his numb fingers go slack, letting the pull of the chain rip him from Sawyer’s grasp. 

Sawyer’s terrified voice screaming Jack’s name rang in his ears as he tumbled into the abyss. 

There was a moment of blinding pain and then everything went black. 

 

TBC


	11. Boom

“Sam...Sam!” 

Sam groaned softly as he tried to force his eyes open. He blinked at the odd shadows in front of him, trying to remember where he was and what had happened. 

“You did it,” Al continued, his voice thick. “Ziggy says if you hadn’t done what you did, Juliet would be down here. She thinks in the original history Juliet died instantly, the bomb never went off, and everything else Daniel said...” 

Sam’s eyes flew open wide as he came fully awake, the events of the past few hours flooding back to him. Pain screamed through every inch of his body. He cried out, his hands clenching into fists. A tiny splash and a general feeling of wetness told him he was lying in a shallow pool. He blinked at the small circle of light far above him and wondered how he could possibly be alive. As the shadows just above him came into focus he realized he had only been temporarily spared. Twisted metal criss-crossed the tunnel over his head, suspended somehow a couple feet over him. If...when it gave way, it would crush him. 

He gasped and choked, fighting to breathe through the nearly overwhelming pain. “Al!” 

“I’m right here, Sam.” 

One of the shadows in the small space shifted and Al’s face came into focus, hovering over Sam. 

Sam barely registered the gut-wrenching sadness clouding Al’s eyes before his own blurred with pained tears. “Don’t leave me, Al,” he pleaded. His attempt at speech made him cough and the resulting pain nearly forced him back into unconsciousness. He felt blood well up into his mouth and gagged on the coppery taste, twisting his head agonizingly to one side to spit it out. 

The warble of emotion was unmistakable in Al’s voice now. He had always known he may have to face seeing his dear friend die in the course of a dangerous mission. The reality of it was just as awful as he’d feared. “I’m not going to leave you, buddy. Just stay with me a little longer. There’s just one more thing you have to do.” 

Sam groaned weakly and spat another mouthful of blood, crying out as fire erupted in his chest and abdomen. ‘Internal bleeding...possible collapsed lung,’ a voice in the back of his head diagnosed grimly. “No more,” he moaned. 

“Listen to me, Sam.” Al’s voice took on a note of urgency. “You don’t have much time. You have to set off the bomb.” 

“I can’t...” 

“Yes, you can, Sam,” Al interrupted in his best Admiral’s voice, broaching any further argument. “You have to do it or you’re gonna die down here.” 

Sam moaned brokenly. 

Al took a deep breath and steeled himself for his next order. “Now...the bomb is right in front of you. Can you see it?” 

Sam blinked blearily at the shape Al indicated and coughed. “Yeah...” 

“There’s a rock right next to your hand, Sam. I need you to pick it up and give the bomb a couple good whacks right here.” He pointed to a spot near one end of the hydrogen core. 

Sam felt blindly along the water-logged ground until he found the rock. His fingers closed over it and he took as deep a breath as his battered body would allow, rallying whatever strength he had left. 

“Hey,” Al called. 

Sam blinked up at him blearily and wondered if it was a trick of the light or if the Admiral’s eyes were really filling with tears. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, kid.” 

Sam smiled – pain making the gesture look more like a grimace - and nodded. Then he hefted the rock into the air and brought it down on the hydrogen core, letting out an incoherent yell as his entire body screamed in protest of the sudden movement. 

Nothing happened. Sam gritted his teeth and brought the rock down on the core again and again. 

After the third blow, he felt a familiar tingle start up in his fingers, spreading down his arms. And as his arm arced toward the bomb for the fourth – and final – time, Dr. Sam Beckett leaped. 

 

THE END


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the ending as it was, feel free to ignore this. If you felt that ending left too many loose ends and didn't have enough Jawyer flirting, keep reading. :)

Jack awoke with a start, gasping for breath as the last of an all-too-real dream shook him. 

“Easy,” a voice said beside him and a gentle hand touched his arm. 

He jumped, his head turning toward the voice, his eyes slowly focusing on his surroundings. He was still on Oceanic flight 815. The man sitting beside him had boarded the plane in Sydney and Jack had thought at the time that he looked familiar somehow. Now, as he took in the man’s kind face and grey-streaked brown hair images from his dream tumbled through his mind, including the unnerving memory of the man’s face looking back at him from a reflecting pool. “Sam,” he blurted. 

The man smiled with relief. “I was afraid you’d never remember.” 

Jack’s eyes snapped to the window, horrific memories of twisted metal and burned wreckage playing in his head. But he only saw fluffy white clouds and peaceful blue-green ocean below. “It was...it was all real?” 

“Yes. 1977, The Dharma Initiative, the bomb...it all happened.” 

Jack’s eyes snapped back to Sam and he reached out to touch the man’s arm, as if trying to confirm his reality too. 

Sam caught his hand and clasped it tightly. “It’s nice to finally really meet you, Jack.” 

A laugh burst from Jack’s lips. He was still processing the images flooding his mind of a past he’d technically never had, even though the experiences felt very real. “It worked.” 

“It worked.” Sam smiled. “All of it. The island is still there somewhere...most of it. But this plane will land in Los Angeles.” 

“And you? You’re really here?” 

Sam nodded. “I woke up in my own body back in 1999. Well,” he added hastily. “Technically it was well into 2000 by the time I recovered.” 

Jack flinched, recalling the ominous silence that had fallen on the control room, broken by Al frantically screaming orders and rough hands manhandling him back to the waiting room. The last thing he remembered was mind-numbing pain washing over him and then...nothing. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Sam gripped his hand firmly. “You helped me get home. I can never repay you for that.” 

Jack’s smile faltered suddenly and he craned his neck around, scanning the faces of the passengers all around him. Rose and Bernard were still across the aisle, too absorbed in each other to notice Jack’s attention. Sun and Jin were a couple rows back. And Locke met his gaze over Sam’s shoulder and gave him a small, friendly smile. 

Sam knew exactly who Jack was really looking for. “He’s here. He’s on the other side of the plane.” 

Jack thought he caught a glimpse of Sawyer’s dirty-blond hair and started to undo his seatbelt. 

Sam’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I need to talk to you before you see him.” 

Jack frowned. “Why? Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Sam assured him quickly. “I just need to explain what happened after I...after *we* leaped out of 1977.” 

Jack eased back into his seat reluctantly. 

“Once I recovered, I went back to work on the project. The problem was always in the retrieval code – instead of bringing me back to my time after a leap, it bounced me to the next random leap like a CD player stuck on shuffle. I thought if I could fix it I could not only come home between leaps – provided I didn’t stay too long – I could choose where I wanted to go. Within certain parameters, of course. Once I was reasonably certain I had fixed the problem, I knew I needed to run a test leap. I thought about you and your friends and how I might be able to repay you for bringing me home and I leaped into Sawyer’s uncle in 1976. I thought maybe I could save his parents.” Sam winced at the memory. “I couldn’t. But I *was* able to help little James Ford another way.” Sam smiled. “He’s a cop now.” 

Jack gave a startled laugh. “A cop?” 

“He’s still looking for Mr. Sawyer, but now he’s on the right side of the law. So is Kate, which is why she’s not on this plane. Hurley is, but he no longer thinks he’s crazy or unlucky, which was hard to convince him of because he can still see me no matter who I leap into. And Juliet is in Florida somewhere with her sister.” Sam trailed off and then hesitated. “Do you remember that night about three weeks ago when your father showed up at your apartment? 

Jack’s smile cracked. “That...that was you?” 

“No, this wasn’t a leap. I was out in the car. You told Al your father had died in Australia, but you never said *how* he died. It turns out I couldn’t save him either, but I knew I could at least give you both closure. So I joined his AA group a few months ago and became his sponsor. I convinced him that it wasn’t too late to save your relationship.” 

Jack shook his head, tears pooling in his eyes. 

“I told him to tell you what he’d already told me. That he was proud of you and he loved you.” 

Jack’s breath came in tiny gasps as a tear broke free and spilled down his cheek. “He said he forgave me for getting him fired,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Sam reached over to pat his back kindly. 

“And he said he had something he needed to show me, but he needed to go to Australia...” He choked back a sob as a memory from the original timeline popped into his head. “Claire. He wanted to tell me about my sister.” 

“Yes.” 

“What happened?” 

“He convinced her to come to Los Angeles. I helped him buy her the plane ticket. And I convinced her after he died to get on the plane anyway. I told her I would introduce her to you myself when we got to Los Angeles. She doesn’t know you’re already on the plane.” 

“Is she still...” Jack made a vague gesture toward his abdomen. 

“About eight months pregnant, yes. She was planning to give the baby up for adoption, but the couple who were going to adopt it backed out. I was kind of hoping Kate and Sayid would be willing to help her, but...” 

Jack reeled. “Sayid? He’s...he’s okay?” 

Sam smiled. “Yeah. Apparently he met Kate’s father in the military. I introduced him to Kate on one of my leaps. They’re engaged now.” 

Jack laughed, surprised. “Kate and Sayid?” 

“It turned out the best way to fix the things that went wrong with their lives was to bring them together.” Sam shrugged. “They hit it off almost immediately. They make a good couple.” 

Once Jack’s giddy laughter died down he started scanning the plane again. “I should talk to Claire...” 

“No, Claire will be waiting for you when the plane lands. Right now I’m more concerned about Sawyer. I could have figured out a way to get you two to cross paths earlier, but I figured this plane brought you together once, it could do it again.” 

“How?” Jack looked skeptical, but hopeful. 

“I’m going to go switch seats with him. All you have to do is talk to him.” 

Jack frowned. “What am I supposed to say?” 

“You told Al you were willing to start over – to rebuild your relationship with Sawyer.” 

“Yes, of course...” 

“Most relationships begin with an introduction.” Sam patted Jack’s arm and moved to stand.

“But what if he’s not interested,” Jack blurted, cringing inwardly at the insecurity in his voice. 

Sam smiled. “Trust me – he will be.” 

Jack started to ask Sam how he could be so sure of that but Sam was already making his way down the aisle of the plane. Jack cringed again as he noted the slight limp to Sam’s gait. He was pretty sure the man hadn’t had that problem before. 

He leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the instinct to bolt. 

He sorted through his memories, trying to separate the ones that belonged to the original timestream from the new ones. Al had warned him he might have trouble distinguishing the two at first, but that over time the memories from the original timeline would fade. Jack thought about the first time he’d kissed Sawyer, the first time they’d slept together, the way Sawyer could send a thrill up his spine with one hooded gaze or sensual touch and hoped Al was wrong. Then he thought of all the fights they’d had in the beginning and how rocky their relationship had been at times – those times when he’d wondered if they could make it work at all. He knew it was absurd to think that he could recreate the good parts of their relationship without *any* of the bad. But he’d been given a second chance – an opportunity to start over and create new memories. 

His breath caught in his throat as he felt Sawyer slip into the seat Sam had just vacated. For a moment he feared he couldn’t go through with it. What if their relationship had only worked because the island had forced them into each other’s lives? Without the island, they didn’t really have anything in common. How could their relationship possibly work? 

Then he remembered his promise to Sawyer and Sam’s conviction that they were *meant* to be together, regardless of the circumstances. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and looked at the man beside him, feeling his stomach flutter a little. His hair was shorter and neatly trimmed, his face clean shaven. But he still somehow had that old, familiar devil-may-care attitude about him that Jack didn't think was totally explained by the black leather jacket he wore. 

'God, he's beautiful.' 

Sawyer looked up from his well-worn novel when he felt Jack’s eyes on him and smiled, flashing the barest hint of dimples. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“You didn’t,” Jack answered quickly. 

Sawyer held out his hand. “James Ford.” 

Jack shook his hand, hoping Sawyer couldn’t feel him trembling. “Jack Shephard.” 

Sawyer...James, Jack corrected himself...cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We met before?” 

“Uh...no...I don’t think so,” Jack spluttered. He would remember something like that, wouldn’t he? 

“I never arrested you, did I?” 

“No.” Jack *knew* he would have remembered that. 

“Huh.” James let go of his hand and shrugged. “Name sounded familiar.” 

“Maybe you’ve heard of me before,” Jack offered hopefully. “Have you ever been to St. Sebastian hospital?” 

James frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe...you a doctor?” 

“Spinal surgeon.” 

James shook his head. “I don’t...” then something clicked into place in his mind and he let out a laugh so abrupt that Rose shot him a startled look. 

“What,” Jack asked, dazed. 

“When I was a kid, my uncle gave me a pocket watch. Really nice one. He put this piece of paper inside it and made me promise I’d never lose it. Said it was real important.” He raised his hand in the air as if taking an oath. “Hand to God, it said when I was older I’d meet a surgeon named Jack Shephard. Said he was my soulmate.” 

//I leaped into Sawyer’s uncle...// 

Jack understood suddenly why Sam had had so much confidence about this meeting. He turned his head, scanning the faces of the passengers on the other side of the plane until he found Sam, chatting with Hurley across the aisle. Hurley caught his eye and flashed him a thumbs up. Sam turned, following Hurley’s gaze and smiled at Jack. 

Jack was momentarily distracted when Locke stood up, unintentionally obstructing his view. He watched, baffled, as the older man stepped into the aisle, stretched his legs and walked toward the bathrooms in the back of the plane. ‘Didn’t he say he was paralyzed before the crash?’ Jack shook his head. No, that must have been one of those false memories Al had warned him about. 

“I figured he was goin’ crazy,” James continued, oblivious, re-directing Jack’s attention back to him. “Seein’ as he died of a brain tumor. He said he didn’t even remember writin’ the note. But I just couldn’t make myself throw it away.” He glanced down at Jack’s hands and winced. “Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you or anythin’.” 

Jack looked down at his hands, puzzled, and was surprised to see a wedding ring on his finger. He searched his memory frantically but all he could come up with were images of an Italian woman crying in his arms, a lawyer showing up at his office with papers for him to sign and a woman...no, a man...no...both...possibly in different universes... sprawled across a bed in Thailand. “Oh,” he said. “No, I’m divorced.” ‘Sarah left me in every universe,’ he added silently. But while he was pretty sure he had still been licking his wounds when he’d gotten on the plane to Australia, now he realized that it didn’t matter. She had already moved on. There was no reason he couldn’t do the same. 

He slipped the ring from his finger, stared at it for a couple moments longer, and then reached over to drop it in the seat pocket in front of him. 

James smirked, amused. “You sure ‘bout that?” 

Jack smiled, feeling like a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. “Yeah. I’m sure.” 

James searched his eyes for a minute and nodded appreciatively. “Tell you what...” 

He set his book down on the seat between them and reached into his back pocket, retrieving his wallet. Jack glanced down at the cover of the book and suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. ‘Lord of the Flies’. 

James fished a business card from his wallet and held it out to Jack. “Here’s my card. You ever need anythin’, you give me a call.” 

Jack felt his eyebrows creep upward. “Anything?” 

James shrugged. “Well...long’s it don’t involve breakin’ the law. Might have to arrest you after all.” There was a hint of playful suggestion in his voice and Jack felt his skin tingle as the idea of putting Sawyer’s handcuffs to new use sprang into his mind. 

Jack glanced down at the card. ‘Detective James Ford,’ it read. ‘Los Angeles Police Department, 42nd precinct.’ “Are you hitting on me, Detective,” he asked, trying to keep his tone light and teasing and not sound desperate. 

James smiled charmingly. “Yeah, I guess I am. So...can I buy you a drink sometime, Doc?” 

Jack smiled back, feeling his body relax for the first time since he’d woken up. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.” 

 

THE END


End file.
